Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm
by Jedi Librarian
Summary: Severus has been cold to emotion for a very long time. Rose is as stubborn as ever. With tensions mounting and the Dark Lord gathering power, clouds of doubt shroud every chance of happiness. Permanently Incomplete.
1. Lessons Learned

**_Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm_**

**_By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large_**

Beta: Many thanks to Foggy Librarian, who came in half-way through the last fic and wouldn't take credit for all her hard work. She is now also beta-ing for Montana, who I strongly recommend as a great Severus/OC author.

Rating: PG13, for angst, language, and other fun boy-girl stuff.

Disclaimer: I do not own many of the characters portrayed within this story, they are strictly the property of JK Rowling. But the plot is mine. Don't steal it. Be your own kind of original!

Notes: You will want to read my first Rose fic, _Rose Among the Thorns_, before you begin this or else you will be completely confused. I also would like to thank those who came from that fic to this one with high hopes and expectations—I will do all I can to live up to them.

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

**_CHAPTER ONE: Lessons Learned_**

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Rose had her back to the class and was writing out the day's lesson on the blackboard. Double-Defense that day, fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins. They were only three weeks into the school year, but so far this particular class hadn't given her any trouble. She was said to be a fair teacher, but wouldn't hesitate to discipline—Fred and George Weasley had learned that the hard way.

She turned to face them with a small smile in place, directed towards no one in particular though her eyes lingered a moment on Harry Potter.

"Hermione, could you please read the first section of what I have written on the board?" she asked, walking slowly down the aisle between desks. Gryffindors were on one side, Slytherins were on the other but not due to any designation Rose had made. They naturally separated themselves that way, without even thinking much about it.

Hermione Granger stood, so as to be better heard, and began to read, "'Vampires are not to be trusted—they have many shady dealings and are known to avoid answering direct questions. The Ministry has decreed that all Vampiric people be treated with caution and the Ministry strongly suggests that they be treated with indifference as well. Never show your curiosity to a vampire.'" She took her seat and then whispered quietly to the red-headed boy next to her, "But vampires aren't for another three chapters!"

"Draco, the second line," Rose instructed without batting an eyelash.

Draco Malfoy leaned back in his chair and lazily read out, "'Vampires are known to be very well learned, especially well-versed in history and mythic lore. They are powerful as allies and adversaries; there is much to be gleaned from their extensive wisdom. Though many lack the ambition of mortal men, and therefore lack interest in mortals, once a vampire becomes allied to a cause he is likely to remain bound to it for the rest of his un-life."

"Thank you. Three points each to Gryffindor and Slytherin for their kind participation." That was another thing Rose Evans was famous for all ready; she dolled points out left and right for the simplest things, some said between her giving points and Snape taking points the Houses remained fairly even. "Take out your quills, please." There was rustling of parchment and bags being opened and shut as the students complied. "Make a list, number it one through five." She waited a moment, then began to stroll back down the aisle towards her desk and the board. "Mr. Goyle," she said. The large boy's head jerked up and he looked at her in surprise. Most teachers knew, of course, that Goyle wasn't the brightest student. A great many had given up calling on him.

"Yes, ma'am?" he asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. He _did_ get called upon when teachers wished to make an example of his stupidity.

"If you could ask a vampire one question, what would it be?" Rose asked, examining the sleeve of her dark red robes. "Anything you wanted to."

He glanced at Crabb, who shrugged, and then looked back up at Professor Evans with apparent misgivings. "I-I would ask him if blood tastes any good."

"Write that down for your number one, everyone else leave their lists blank. Mr. Weasley, what would _you_ ask a vampire if he were in this room right now?"

"I would ask him to go away and not stop in for a bite," Ron responded, not even hesitating. The class chuckled, a few Slytherins rolled their eyes. Hermione Granger scooted a few inches away from him, looking away, obviously embarrassed by his very unacademic response.

"Think more along the lines of an interview, Mr. Weasley," Rose responded patiently, pulling her wand from her sleeve to twirl it in her fingers. She pushed her spectacles up her nose slightly with the tip of the small cedar twig.

Ron Weasley thought about it for an instant and then said, "How did he become a vampire in the first place? What was it like to get bitten?"

"Excellant. Write those down as your one and two." Rose leaned back against her desk and flashed a wicked smile at her students. "And now the rest of you can fill in your five interview questions you would most like to ask a vampire. Turn them in at the end of the lecture for me to go through. I will return them to you with the inappropriate questions marked out. They will serve as a guide to you to in order to put the questions to our special guest, Andrew Mankiller of a Native tribe in America. He is a vampire and a very prominent one at that. He has agreed to come in and answer your questions."

There were gasps of horror, surprise, and little or no excitement at all. Hands immediately shot up.

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom?"

"Do we _have_ to attend that class?"

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom, attendance to this class will be crucial." Rose sighed as she took in the other raised hands and worried faces. "And yes, I have had it approved by the Headmaster. _Chief_ Mankiller is a prominent citizen of the wizarding community in the United States and it is not his fault he was bitten by a vampire. I assure you he will not be making a meal out of anyone."

Still more hands shot up.

Rose suddenly knew it was going to be a long day.

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Severus sneered over the cauldron of Ginny Weasley, another miserable little red-headed Gryffindor, and rebuked her for producing a royal blue vapor when he distinctly told the students it was only right when it turned navy. Back and forth he walked among the student tables, glaring darkly at all of them, but Gryffindor and Ravenclaw double-potions managed to leave the room at the end of the day with five house points a piece added and no idea why Snape was in such a 'good' mood.

"Wonder what's gotten into the old bat," Ginny muttered to a Ravenclaw.

Luna Lovegood rolled her shoulders back in a shrug and remarked, sounding bored and far-away, "Maybe he's in love."

"That vulture? With who?" She threw her head back and looked down her nose at Luna and said in a gruff, hissing tone, "'Yesss...I have finally found my true love.... Classss, I'd like you to meet my ssssoul mate, Severi the Hag...."

The Ravenclaw shrugged again, but was smiling as if at something very distant. "There's someone for everyone, Ginny. My father says...." Her voice trailed off as they walked further down the hall.

Rose stepped out from behind a statue of Morgan la Fey where she had been waiting for the students coming out of the dungeon to pass. Once they were all gone she smirked to herself and made her way down to the dungeons.

He was sitting in front of his desk idly reading the lab sheets the students had filled out as they went through the experiments for the day.

"Don't you just love Mondays?" Rose asked from the doorway, smiling at him. Her hair was gathered up and she still wore her dark red robes, but her spectacles had disappeared. When Severus looked up his eyes locked with hers and he wondered briefly how many times in his life she would startle a smile from him as she did at that moment.

The smile quickly vanished; he turned back to the parchment. "There is no point liking or disliking any day of the week more or less than another," he recited his usual reply to any member of the staff on such a topic to her. Then added, smirking, "Especially when you deal with Gryffindors _every_ day."

"Tomorrow you've got Harry," she remarked lightly, coming to sit on the edge of his desk. "He's bright enough for you, isn't he?"

"Potter shows a distinct disregard for rules and lack of respect to superiors. I loathe the boy."

"Funny, he sounds a bit like you. And his father, and every other fifteen year old boy." Rose crossed her legs at the knee and folded her hands in her lap. "But I'd like to talk to you for a moment about something concerning Harry."

Rolling his eyes, Severus sat back in his chair and gestured with one hand for her to continue.

"I'd like you to give him Occlumency lessons."

Severus nearly fell backwards out of his chair. He recovered himself quickly, however, and stood abruptly. "Absolutely not," he hissed, glaring down at her. "Not if the Dark Lord started growing pansies and Dumbledore went to the moon!"

Rose laughed, outright, a low and silky sound gliding on air. "That was the most original response I think I've ever heard from you. Bravo, Severus! It seems being a teacher has helped your creativity somewhat."

"Be that as it may," he returned, unflinching and glaring sourly, "Your request is completely denied."

"Please, Severus?" she asked, looking up at him with a demure smile. "I'm not skilled enough to teach him and the Headmaster's time is so divided right now between the Order and school and convincing that horrid Ministry of Magic of what's what. Harry's been having these dreams—"

"Spare me the details," he hissed again. He put both hands on the desk, on either side of her, and leaned forward until their faces were only a hand's breadth apart. "The boy hates me. I have no reason to do anything but reciprocate those feelings."

"Of course you do," she said calmly, keeping her eyes on his. "You owe him the debt you couldn't repay to his father. Occlumency could very well save Harry's life."

Severus pushed away from the desk, turning his back towards her. His expression was one of disgust, his jaw was clenched. "It could be argued that I've all ready repaid my debt. I've intervened several times to keep Potter from harm."

She hadn't wanted to do this. She didn't think either of them needed it, but Albus Dumbledore had said that Harry's very life could depended upon him learning Occlumency to keep the Dark Lord out of his head. Rose had no other choice. She lowered her eyes to the ground, ashamed of herself for what she was about to say. Her words would make him angry, her words would hurt him greatly. But it was this or Harry Potter's life. "Then consider a debt repaid to me, Severus. You made a promise to me once and then did not fulfill it. I have a claim and I am making it now… a life for a life."

His back stiffened, the temperature in the room seemed to have dropped. "You would call that up for _Occlumency_ lessons? For that selfish, irresponsible _boy_?" He paused, the air was tense between them. "You must be desperate."

Rose bit her lip and shrugged, even though he wasn't facing her direction. "He's the only family I've got, Severus. He's my blood. I owe him something, for Lily's sake."

"Don't give me that," he whispered, still not turning. "I don't want to hear your melodramatic explanations."

The witch tensed. "You owe me a debt, Severus Snape, and don't even _think_ about trying to wiggle out of it. I name my payment for that promise you _failed_ to uphold. The only price I will accept is that you teach my nephew _every_thing you know about Occlumency and insure his safety from the Legilimens of the Dark Lord." She came off the desk, glaring at his back. "I didn't want to call that up. I never would have if you weren't so stubborn and arrogant. Grow up, Severus!"

"Get out," he said, voice hoarse and angry. "Get out of my dungeon and _stay_ out."

"Not until you accept undertaking repayment of this debt," she bit out, planting her feet and readying herself in case he tried to use force. "I call this up, Severus, and I will have your word that you will repay me."

He cursed, bitterly. "You have it. I cannot deny the debt and so I cannot deny the repayment. You know that, you stupid little—"

"Don't you _dare_," she growled, her temper escalating. "And if I hear of _one_ thing suspicious going on in those lessons I will personally take care of it."

"Get out, witch!" He finally turned, his face flushed with anger and his eyes cold as the North wind. His face was taut; he was obviously struggling with control. "Get out and don't ever come back into this room. How dare you pretend just days ago that I was forgiven for that night, only to come back and hold it before me maliciously?"

Rose wanted to storm out then, her composure had nearly given way to her temper...but who was _he_ to command her like that? The situation hurt her as much as it did him. "She was my baby, Severus! Because you didn't even try to intervene she's gone and she's not coming back. I call the debt because I can and I will not have you feeling as if I've no right to it. I have forgiven you, but I will not forgive the debt if it will save Harry's life."

He looked at her silently for several long, cold moments. "Are you leaving?" he finally asked, his voice as hard as his eyes.

"If I walk out that door at your command, Severus," Rose whispered, tilting her chin up, "you will have done almost as much damage today as you did sixteen years ago. Don't tell me to leave again; I'm tired of hurting because of the past. I'm tried of being angry."

Severus stared into her eyes, watching the green flames dance within them as she fought to control her temper. Her small, thin frame was poised as if she was not sure whether to fight or flee, all the color had fled her face leaving it pale. The three freckles on her nose were visible.

He was suddenly thrust back in his memory.

_She had been sick, alone in the infirmary with only Severus to watch over her. He had kept a silent vigil until the night of a horrible nightmare.... The nightmare only ended, he had only been rescued, when he heard a voice calling to him._

_His eyes snapped open. The room was quiet. He was in the infirmary, staring up at the ceiling, only a lone candle lighting the darkness. He blinked, making sure it was all real and he was safe. But the hands on his arms were still there. He turned his head, slowly, and met the face of Rose Evans, tears in her eyes, her face pale and thin. She was leaning all her weight against his bed, her hands were on his arms, and she was trembling from cold and lack of strength._

_But she was afraid for _**him**

His shoulders slumped; he took a step back from her. His eyes went down, towards the dungeon floor, and he swallowed reflexively. His face paled, no longer red with anger. "Do you remember when you were sick, Rose? With Hemitertian?"

She blinked, confused by his change of demeanor and topic. "How could I forget that?" she asked. "It took me forever to recover, and it _was _a rare disease." She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

Severus glanced up at her, then sighed. "You were the only non-pureblood to ever contract that disease."

"I know. Madame Pomfrey thought it was strange." Rose crossed her arms. "If you're trying to change the subject, Severus, you're doing a wonderful job. What the devil are you talking about that for?"

Severus shook his head. "Inconsistent. You've always been inconsistent of every person and every rule I ever knew. _Why_?"

"I beg your pardon?" An incredulous chuckle escaped her before she rolled her eyes. "What are you talking about, Severus?"

"I'm asking you a question. I'm asking you why you're so different from everyone and everything else." Severus stepped back again and then lowered himself into his chair. "Why are you...you?"

"You've been in this dungeon too long, the mold's finally gotten to your brain," she muttered, but she came forward and hesitantly took a seat on the desk. "I'm just me, Severus. I'm the way I am."

"That's a nonanswer."

"Well look at what you gave me to work with," she pointed out, smiling weakly.

The wizard nodded, considering his own thoughts. "You're different, Rose. You're unique. To this day I still don't understand how we became...so close."

Rose started to smile despite herself. "We needed friends."

Severus turned his attention to the lesson plan for the fifth years he had laying on his desk. "I have work to do, Rose." He ran a hand through his hair and shot her a quick, aggravated look. He couldn't puzzle her out to this day, and he wasn't about to waste an afternoon trying. "I'm sure you have better things to do, too."

"Perhaps." Rose stood again and began to make her way towards the door. "Don't forget about Harry," she whispered, looking back to see him all ready bent over his notes. She was out the door when he looked up again, frowning.

"I won't forget," he murmured, never smiling, before turning his thoughts again to his lessons.

* * *

Thank you for being here today. :-) I do hope you've enjoyed this chapter and I'm very excited by those which are upcoming.

**Sneak Preview**: _It's All Wrong_, in chapter two, with Rose arguing stubbornly with several wizards who refuse to see her side of things. Rose would really like to know, in chapter three, _'What's an Umbridge?'_ (Ha! And y'all thought you'd escape that horrid toad!) And fifth years get a startling, eye-opening experience when they're allowed to _Interview with a Vampire._

Review, please! It makes me happy…and adds inspiration to my work!

**_-JB-_**


	2. It's All Wrong

**_Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm_**

**_By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large_**

Beta: Thank you, Foggy Librarian!

Disclaimer: Found in the previous chapter of this fic.

Notes: Merry Christmas!

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

**_CHAPTER TWO: It's All Wrong_**

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

"I have to do _what_ with Snape?!" Harry shouted, coming to his feet so quickly he knocked over the chair in Rose Evans's office. "Are you crazy?!"

"Only slightly," Rose responded, never changing her firm, quiet expression. She peered at him over the rims of her spectacles, giving him the distinct feeling she was sizing him up. "Do you think yourself unequal to the task, Harry?"

Harry shot her an irritated look before turning to pace her office. "Why can't someone else teach me?"

"The only other person at Hogwarts with the amount of knowledge Professor Snape has about the subject is the Headmaster and you know how busy he is, Harry. Don't be so selfish, this is an important skill you obviously are in need of with the Dark Lord so close to your thoughts." Rose sighed and relaxed some. "Harry, it's important for your safety."

Harry shot a dark look in her direction. "Wonderful. It's for my own safety, just like everything else. Every secret kept from me, every time I'm shipped off to the Dursleys, every moment when I have to look over my shoulder is for my own safety. Now I'm going to be _tortured_ by Snape for my own safety. Great."

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Harry," Rose replied calmly, watching him carefully. There was a lot of James Potter in that boy, but she could see Lily peek out from his eyes and expressions now and then. She thought him a handsome boy and she knew he was very intelligent for his age; Rose was pleased to find she very much liked her nephew.

He bent to pick up the chair he had knocked over, still scowling. "I'm sorry, Professor." He sat down, then glanced up at her with a curious expression. "I don't like calling you professor, but it's weird to call you anything else."

"I know the feeling," she admitted, shaking her head slightly. "Just call me whatever you prefer, I won't take offense to much."

He looked suddenly thoughtful, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "Is it true what they're saying about you?"

"Well, that depends on who's saying it and what they're saying," she quipped, flashing him a grin. "For instance, the Hufflepuffs are spreading a vicious rumor that I keep pet tarantulas in the castle. Confidentially, Harry, I hate spiders and I have no idea where they ever got _that_ idea."

Harry's smile was a little more cheerful; he sat back slightly in his chair. "It's what the Slytherins are saying. Malfoy's been saying things and the rest of those slimy little—"

"Don't forget you're speaking to a Slytherin Alumni," Rose interrupted, smiling archly. "Just get to the point, Harry, without the adjectives."

He rolled his eyes. "Why _were_ you in that house?" he grumbled. It was obvious that thought still made him distinctly uncomfortable.

"I'll tell you, someday. But for now, what is it that Draco Malfoy has been saying about me?" Despite herself, Rose was interested. Whatever knowledge of her Malfoy had he could only have obtained from his Death Eater father, or worthless gossip from Narcissa.

Harry hesitated, then _very_ slowly said, "He said you were Snape's girlfriend...his...um...." Blushing, Harry barely managed out the last word, "Lover."

To his surprise, his aunt started to laugh, leaning back in her chair and shaking her head. "_That's_ all? Oh, good, I was afraid he'd tell the world a much darker story." Rose leaned forward and gave Harry's hand a pat. "I'm relieved that's the extent of the Slytherin rumor-weed's roots."

The Gryffindor relaxed, managing a smile as well. "I knew it wasn't true."

Instantly Rose sobered and she fixed him with a quiet, half-way hurt expression. "I didn't say that, Harry."

His jaw dropped. "You're—? But that's just...." He came to his feet and backed away from the desk, startled. "You and Snape—?" Obviously he had no idea that the monster also known as potion's master could be capable of attracting anyone, let alone his pretty aunt.

Rose hadn't wanted to break it to him this way, but this was as good a time as any. "Severus was my only friend as a student, Harry. After I graduated from Hogwarts we got married. He introduced me to the Death Eaters, and...it's a long story. I don't expect you to understand, I know how you feel about Snape—"

"He's a slimy git," Harry bit out, unrepentant. He suddenly was looking at her with a great deal of mistrust in his eyes, she briefly felt a stab of pain as she wondered what this information would do to their tentative, almost nonexistent relationship. "You could've done better."

Rose shrugged and removed her spectacles to rub the bridge of her nose. "So I'm told, most often by Severus."

"You're still married?" Harry asked, assuming things correctly for once, narrowing his eyes. "Even after you've been gone? You said no one knew you were alive."

"Yes, we're still married and no, Severus didn't know I was alive." Rose now kept her gaze steady, locking her eyes with his. She took in a breath. "Harry, I realize this is disturbing news for you. Severus has told me how you two...regard each other. He was just as upset by this proposal as you seem to be, but it's for your own good and he has no choice but to comply. The Headmaster and I are very firm about this, and Professor Dumbledore said he would be talking to Sirius soon. I know you feel as if you're being babied, but don't. In reality, we're only giving you the weapons you're going to need when Lord Voldeomort finally shows up."

Harry blinked at her. "Why not teach the entire school that then? Why only me?"

"Because of that scar," Rose answered, her voice softening. "Because of your circumstances. The Dark Lord wants to have control, Harry, and he believes he cannot have it until you are destroyed." She hesitated, looking as if she wished to say more, but finally settled for a firm frown and set shoulders.

The young wizard nodded, looking down at the ground. "I'll do it. But I won't like it."

"Good. The classes are to take place under cover of Remedial Potions."

Harry nearly pulled his hair out in frustration.

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

"I don't like it," Sirius bit out, folding his arms and slouching in his chair. He was sulking. "Why does it have to be _remedial_ work? Who's going to believe Harry needs any remedial lessons?"

"A remedial potions class would be a benefit to your godson," sneered the potion's master from the other side of the kitchen table. "He could use the extra refinement such a class would offer, and his grades need what little improvement extra care would give him."

"Enough," Albus Dumbledore, sitting at the head of the table, said with a calm gesture of the hand. "It has been decided all ready. We only seek your approval for Occlumency lessons, Sirius, not your critique of the way they will be handled."

Molly Weasley, Fleur Delacour, and Rose were also at the table, quietly waiting for the outcome of the argument taking place.

Sirius grumbled something unintelligible, then finally agreed with a curt nod. "Fine. Harry needs the lessons."

"At least we've finally got that agreed upon," Molly Weasley sighed. "Men never know when to stop and take what's given them."

Although this didn't make much sense to the men, the women shrugged it off and turned to other matters.

Rose rubbed the bridge of her nose after removing her spectacles for a brief moment. "When is Harry going to be told about the prophecy?"

The room fell silent.

Rose opened her eyes, which she had closed for a moment of rest, to see everyone staring down at the table except for Severus—he stared coldly towards the opposite wall. "Ahem. When is Harry going to be told about the prophecy?" she repeated, looking around about her with a frown.

"When he's ready to be told," Sirius said quietly, raising his eyes slowly to meet hers. His sky-blue eyes were darker than normal, upset, and he had a look she recognized from days long past. It was his stubborn, argue-with-me-and-die look.

"And when, pray tell, is that?" Rose returned, offering him a chilly smile and raising her eyebrows, the challenge in her tone was unmistakable. "Before or after Voldemort murders him?"

Sirius shot to his feet, Molly and Fleur gasped, and Severus rolled his eyes at the dramatics being displayed. Albus Dumbledore was calmly inspecting the hem on the sleeve of his robes and did not say a word.

"You're not," growled Sirius, "to say a word to him about it. He's just a boy, he's got enough to worry about without throwing one more horrible fact in his face. Leave it alone, Evans."

She sighed. "I wouldn't dream of over-stepping my bounds on this, Sirius, and I know it's not my place to. But wouldn't it be better if he—"

"No," he snapped.

Albus glanced up, not even appearing mildly concerned. "Harry will find out soon enough, Rose. We have a lot to handle right now, and he has O.W.L.s this year. Do you really think knowing the prophecy, at this point, will do anything other than bury him further under sorrow and self doubt? He is struggling."

"It would be a protection," Rose said softly, keeping her eyes on Sirius. "He should know _why _Voldemort wants to kill him so badly and _why_ his parents had to die."

"You cannot," Sirius said harshly, quietly, "come back after fifteen years and tell us what is right and what is wrong. You cannot tell me how to raise _my _godson. You do not know better than we do, Evans. Leave it alone." He spun away from the table and left the room, stomping loud enough down the hall that the bloody portrait of his mother went off, shrieking about blood-traitors and mudbloods.

Rose replaced her spectacles and looked to Severus with a frown. "Harry Potter is fifteen years old and he has had more sorrow in his life than anyone deserves. He lived in an abusive household, he has faced evil and triumphed each time, he has watched people die in front of him, he has _endured everything_ that has been thrown at him. I will keep my peace, but I think every single one of you—" she looked pointedly at Albus Dumbledore "—are wrong." She stood from her chair and calmly left the room via the kitchen door to the back yard.

Severus glanced at Albus and was not surprised to see the older wizard's countenance was troubled. Molly Weasley was, for once, speechless and Fleur was fidgeting nervously—he hadn't been aware she knew how to fidget. He took his leave of them with a simple, "Please excuse me, Headmaster," and disappeared out the back door to speak to Rose.

The back yard was magicked to look like a country garden, the neighbors' yards were not visible from any point in the yard as the scene beyond the fence looked like nothing more than open meadows and starry skies. Of course, the oddest things were growing in the yard and the place was infested with gnomes—they hadn't gotten to cleaning the back out yet. The first thing Molly Weasley wanted to do was get the house in order before tackling what had been deemed 'the Jungle.'

Rose was sitting on the steps of the back porch, leaning against the pillar which held the patio cover up. She was staring up at the night sky, and for an instant Severus thought she looked a great deal like the lost, lonely little girl he had made friends with at Hogwarts.

He stepped out and stood, leaning one shoulder against the opposite pillar, looking down at her. "Albus Dumbledore is rarely wrong, Rose," he said at last, softly. "You know that."

"He's wrong about this," Rose stated firmly. "Secrets are deadly, Severus. You and I both know that."

Wincing slightly, Severus nodded and slid down until he was seated beside her. "He has his reasons."

"He's irritating me. Always keeping his reasons secret, always hinting at things and never being direct. I'm so tired of it, Severus. I'm finally home, back where I belong, and all I can feel is frustration and annoyance with everyone."

"Including me," he noted with a slight smirk. "This is the way life is, Rose, the way it's become. We have been given a situation and this is the only way we know how to handle it."

She snorted, discounting that. "Oh, Severus," she murmured, shaking her head.

Something within him jerked as she sighed his name. He swallowed. "What?" It came out sharp, rough.

The witch didn't notice. "It's so hard to be a part of all this and still be considered an outsider."

"No one would understand that better than myself," he muttered darkly. "I am the black sheep of the Order, or hadn't you figured that out?"

"I think we're both there now," she replied, smirking at him in the dark. "It's just tiresome."

Severus nodded once, abruptly. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really, why?"

"I thought you might be hungry. I know a nice cafe...." He let the sentence hang, leaving it to her to take it up or not.

Rose flashed him a smile. "Tea would be nice, and maybe something to snack on. Where is this cafe of yours?"

Less than half an hour later found them seated in a snug, quiet little cafe on the outskirts of London. The other patrons that evening consisted of elderly couples sipping coffee, a few teenagers studying together at a table, and not much else. The cafe had dark green decor, and the lighting was low enough to offer privacy and encourage a mood of quiet.

"This doesn't look like the sort of place you would frequent, Severus."

One of the elderly women raised a wand to gain the attention of a waitress.

"It's so normal," Rose murmured, her lips curving upward in a smile. "Quiet, normal, and if I weren't a witch I wouldn't think any of these folks were magic either."

Severus, seated across from her at their corner table, raised his own wand to gain attention and shrugged off her amusement. "As you said, it's quiet. I also find people less inclined to offer me sly looks or curious stares due to the comfortable atmosphere. I stumbled in here once after...an assignment. I needed a place to sit and gather my wits."

"Now that _is_ startling," Rose commented. He offered her a questioning frown and she returned it with a bright grin. "You, having to gather your wits. What is the world coming to?"

The waitress was upon them so he could do no more than give her a disapproving frown before ordering a cup of tea, and she did the same. As soon as the waitress, a young witch with a calm smile and wearing a muggle-like uniform, went to retrieve the tea he gestured to a vase on the other table—it held three dark red roses. "Your namesake," he commented.

She sighed. "Roses. Lilies. Petunias. Those flowers plague me where ever I go."

Again Severus gestured and this time one of the roses floated through the air and into his grasp. He winced, however, and immediately dropped it on the table. "Thorn," he muttered at Rose's startled glance. He opened his hand and there was a single drop of blood coming from the scratch he had received.

"Oh dear." Rose reached out and took his hand, turning it over so his palm faced upward as she took in the small cut. Rose took a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at the blood, still holding his hand. "It's only a small scrape," she noted, studying the wound. She put a finger to it and traced the skin next to the wound. "Gone by tomorrow," she added, looking up with a bemused expression.

Severus was staring at her, his black eyes suddenly warm and narrowed just slightly as he watched her face. "It was only a thorn, Rose. Not enough to do any damage."

She drew her hand from his and tilted her chin up smartly. "Of course." But color crept into her cheeks and she had to look away from him.

The waitress came back, giving them their tea, and then she left them again.

"How are your classes coming?" Severus asked, a slight smirk turning the corners of his mouth. He watched her sip at her tea, his eyes never straying from her expression.

"Much better than I expected them to go. It seems as if the only competent teacher any of the children had was Remus Lupin, though. Why has Dumbledore allowed so many nincompoops into the position? It's absolutely ridiculous. But I've got some exciting things coming up for them," she concluded with a smirk. "You'd disapprove, of course, but I'm bringing a vampire in for the fifth years to interview."

Severus nearly choked on the tea he had been sipping at. "You're bringing one of those," he hissed out, glaring, "blood-sucking night-crawlers into _Hogwarts?_"

"Um. No, I think you misunderstood," she replied, frowning a little at his prejudice. "I'm bringing in a vampire; and Andrew Mankiller is a very good friend of mine."

He snorted. "You think his name would be enough to warn you of trouble."

"He's a Native American," she returned, quirking her brows up at him. "He's also a gentleman and he agreed to come and do this for me while he attended a vampire conference in London. If he wasn't a vampire, I think you'd like him." She reached for the rose that rested on the table and picked it up, careful of the thorns. "Isn't this a pretty thing?"

"Bloody dangerous," he muttered, putting his cup down and folding his arms across his chest. "I think you're named aptly."

"Thank you," she replied, and then Rose narrowed her eyes slightly at him and put on a slow, warm smile. "So is this a date, Severus?"

He looked away, not allowing her expression to effect him. "No. Just two colleagues enjoying tea together."

"Oh. Well, in that case, it _is_ a school night, so I need to be going." She stood from her seat, carrying the rose with her, and was halfway out the cafe before he caught up to her.

Severus walked with her towards the edge of the premises, his long strides easily matching hers. "Would you care to have dinner with me tomorrow night?" he asked, tone flat.

"That depends. Am I eating with a colleague, an old friend, a date, or my husband," she retorted with a tart smirk. "The circumstances for each dinner would differ, you know."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, glaring at her through the shadows of night. "It would be a—"

Rose took his arm abruptly and pulled him so that he faced her. She looked up at him, her eyes the only truly visible feature in the darkness. "Severus Snape, what are your intentions concerning me?" she asked, sounding deadly serious. "What are your future plans and where do I fit in to them?"

For a moment he just stared at her, then opened his mouth as if to speak but closed it again almost immediately.

Rose put the flower she held, carefully, into one of his hands. "When you can tell me that, you can invite me to dinner." She disapparated to the path of Hogwarts.

Severus was left standing in the dark, limply holding the single rose in his hand.

**

* * *

**

Merry Christmas, Y'all! Hope this chapter was an okay present!

Sneak Preview: Chapter Three has Rose wondering, _"What's an Umbridge?"_ Chapter Four the fifth years get a surprise and some information in their _"Interview with a Vampire."_ And Chapter Five Rose receives _"An Invitation, and Minerva's Counsel."_

**To Those Who Reviewed the Epilogue of Rose Among the Thorns as well as Chapter One:**

**Arashi7**: Glad you could wait. Glad you're sticking around. Happy Christmas!

**Maya)-sleepy**: Merry Christmas! Thank you for the review, and for putting out the torch!

**Writer Chica**: So…where's your next installment? Hm??

**Lydia**: I look forward to hearing from you soon! Happy New Year! Thank you for the continued support!

**Rae Roberts**: Glad to hear about the Remus story, and now I totally understand why you'd need to revise. Flash-backs are very cumbersome and overwhelming. You think you know who the spies were, eh? I admit, I threw them in on a spur of the moment and they haven't told me what they're really up to yet. As for the similarities…maybe that's why I like your fics so much—I tend to favor ideas that compliment/favor my own. I look forward to reading more of your work!

**Montana**: I'll soon be contacting you about a good list for Severus/OC stories…. I've got an idea. Yes, I'm pleased Foggy is back. I missed her terribly. Of course, now I have no excuse to delay chapters…. But I digress. I'm really enjoying your story, and I'm pleased to drop **SHAMELESS PLUGS** for you. (**READ MONTANA'S FIC!**)

**Rinny**** Z**: You're a pansy for having a short fic? Nay! The real pansies are those who refuse to give in to their desires and write a fic! Merry Christmas!

**Illume**: I hope I'm frustrating you. It's a little goal of mine to drive my readers crazy. How am I doing? ;-) Happy holidays!

**Nestle**: Haven't heard from you in a while. It's great to know you're still around.

**Kiss-of-cuteness**: Thank you for the compliments. And I agree with you about the wizarding world's opinion of werewolves. You'll like the vampire bit, I think.

**Turtle**: Everyone says the last story ended confusingly. Pah! It's perfectly clear to me! But then, I'm the one who wrote it. Thank you for the reviews!

**Sona**** Camdyn**: Sirius will play a slightly more prominent roll in this fic than he did in the other one. Never fear! I'm also glad you're relieved about no longer scrolling through chapters. It is a nice treat, isn't it?

**Evil Duckie of the BlackLagoon**: Darling, do you like sugar very much?

**SmartAlek**: Here's your update, smarty-pants.

**Emikae**: Familiar with whom? Lestat…etc? Sorry, no. But I hope you like this chapter any way.

**Artzfreak**: Glad you're here—review more often, please! :-) The 'pansies and moon' line is 100 percent Severus, I promise. I certainly couldn't have come up with a quote like that.

**Dianatyne**: Thank you for the review, it's nice to hear from someone new now and again.

**Black Sheep Alone**: Wow, it has been a while. My theory of why I've got all these reviews on the first chapter is that people hit the 'review' button just so they could then check the boxes for 'author alert' or 'add story to favorites list' or something. Just a theory, though. :-) It's good to hear from you again.

**StrawberryBunny**: I'm pleased you're enjoying the fic and that you approve of the split storyline. :-) Have a merry Christmas!

See you all next year! (The first week of January, my dears, now I'm off to enjoy MY holiday!)

**_-JB-_**


	3. What's an Umbridge?

**_Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm_**

**_By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large_**

Beta: Thank you, Foggy Librarian!

Disclaimer: Found in previous chapters of this fic.

Notes: Happy New Year!

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

**_CHAPTER THREE: What's an Umbridge?_**

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Ginny Weasley was lingering in the doorway after her Defense class let out; she held her text book to her chest and stared into the room she had only just walked out of as if she stood on the brink of a cliff. One good gust of wind would probably propel her forward and she didn't seem to be sure that's what she wanted.

Professor Evans became aware of her only when she turned towards her desk to gather up the essays the students had turned in before going out. A flash of red caught her eye and she looked up—unsure of whether it was the girl's hair or house-colored scarf that turned her head. "Yes, Ginny?" she said in her low, strict tone of voice that kept most students in line.

That gust of wind struck Ginny, and she stepped back into the room, boldly. "May I speak to you for a minute, Professor Evans?" she asked, tilting her chin up. Her dark brown eyes flashed with confidence and her frown was serious.

"Of course." Rose leaned back against her desk and smiled—not a friendly smile, but an inviting smile that gave Ginny some measure with which to work.

The young witch came further into the classroom until she stood before her professor, then she shrugged her slim shoulders as she said, "Harry says you're his aunt."

Rose nodded, but her expression immediately closed. Her face, normally pretty and pleasing, was suddenly cold. "That is true."

Ginny swallowed. "I'm worried about him, Professor," she said at last. Her shoulders dropped some, but her eyes remained steady and sure. "He's not at all like he used to be. He's distant, withdrawn, and he doesn't talk about things...like he used to."

"Are you close friends?" Rose asked from curiosity, though her tone did not betray that she cared. She took in the appearance of the girl in front of her; coppery hair, a charming sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks, and brown eyes that crackled with fireworks. She was slim and small, unlike her tall and gangly brothers, and she had nerve. Ginny had also shown proficiency in Defense class, picking up spells and explaining the reasons behind many theories easily and with confidence. She was a very bright student, serious when class was in session, but often smiling and chatting away with her friends—most of whom were older than Ginny herself. This girl, in short, looked like the sort of person Rose would hope to befriend her nephew.

Ginny shrugged, and now her eyes dropped. "Not really. He's my brother Ron's best friend, so I'm around him a lot. I notice things, though. Harry—well, Harry's pretty well adjusted to things despite his horrible relatives—um, not you, though I mean—"

"The Dursleys," Rose interrupted evenly. She couldn't stand it when children stuttered. "What is your point, Miss Weasley?" Normally she called the children by their first names, unless she meant business. They knew this by now, but that did not fluster Ginny Weasley.

"My point," Ginny said slowly, regaining confidence, "is that the world is a bad enough place for regular people but for Harry it's worse. He doesn't know what is expected of him or why—and he doesn't know enough about his own background to find strength there. Oh, he knows bits and pieces about his parents, but nothing solid enough to...to encourage him. He's moody, and Harry's never been moody. Ron's worried about him, Hermione's worried about him, and so am I."

"What do you propose," Rose said, slowly, "that I do about that?"

"Can't you tell him more about his parents? Sirius can't—he's got limited communication with him from Grimmauld, and no one else was REALLY close to them."

Rose suppressed the urge to sigh and instead adjusted her glasses before looking pointedly at the clock on her classroom wall. "Haven't you a class to get to, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny did not hide her frustrated expression, but she glared at the professor before turning and storming out of the room.

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

"Your godson needs a holiday," Rose was saying to the fireplace, where Sirius's head was floating about. She was speaking to him from her own hearth, in her quarters, so no one unexpected would walk in. "He's an absolute mess."

"And what do you propose I do?" Sirius asked sharply, glaring up at her. "Your deranged potion's master has made it all too clear—to EVERYONE—that I'm useless and have to stay hiding in the shadows of this miserable house."

"He's not _my_—"

Sirius interrupted her with a bark of laughter. "Yes, he _is._ I was informed by the potion's master, in no uncertain terms, that I was to keep my hands and eyes off a certain newly resurrected witch. He seems to be worried about my little crush on you," he added scathingly. "As if that's even a factor anymore."

"You need a girlfriend, Sirius," Rose muttered, "if you're still harping on that."

He rolled his eyes. "Back to Harry. How are his Occlumency lessons coming?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

He gaped at her for a moment. "You've left my godson completely alone with that slimy, horrendous—"

"Brilliant Head of Slytherin? Why, yes, I have!" Rose pretended to beam at him and leaned closer to the fire. "What's Severus going to do, Black? He's on Dumbledore's side, or had you forgotten that?"

"How could I? He's always rubbing my nose in it," Sirius growled, then winced. "The pun was unintentional."

"Come now, Sirius—I'm sure Snuffles gets his nose rubbed in all sorts of messes," Rose responded, smirking condescendingly at him. "But enough. I'm tired of arguing with you, I just thought you should know there have been some concerns about his health and happiness."

"The boy was _attacked_ by dementors during his summer holiday, put on trial like some common criminal, and has Voldemort running amuck in his head. I think it's about time _someone_ was concerned. But who brought all of this to your attention, Professor?" he asked, turning innocent eyes up to her. "Surely whoever it was trusted you, as Harry's aunt, to see to his needs."

"I am not in a position to help Harry," she responded evenly. "I'm supposed to be walking the fine line between the Dark Lord and Dumbledore, after all."

"All the more reason to pay attention to him, and to Snape, equally," Sirius returned, finding it his turn to smirk. "The ultimate choice—an old love or the son of your sister. Tsk. I wonder who you would choose, if it came down to it?" He looked over his shoulder in the flames. "Krecher's bumbling around in the kitchen again."

"Was he really snogging your father's pants?" she asked, mentioning an incident Fleur had been giggling over. "That's very disturbing, Sirius."

"Believe me, no one's more disturbed by this house—or the Blacks—as I am." He sighed, his eyes dropped and he raised a hand to massage his forehead. "I can't do much so far away from Harry. Just keep an eye out for him, Rose. Pretend you really are his charming, kindly little aunt, okay? The boy needs family."

"I'm aware of that, Sirius. In fact, I think I know just how he feels." Rose sighed and sat back on her carpet, sitting Indian style. It was time to change the subject before they started arguing again. She seemed to have a knack for arguing with people, most especially men. "Any news from the Order? You must know everything, being there every time someone comes in or out."

"As a matter of fact, Arthur Weasley was in today and he sent a confidential report to Dumbledore. Of course, I was here while he wrote the letter." He flashed her his most charming, most self-assured and arrogant, Sirius-Smile. "It seems the Headmaster is about to get a bit of trouble shoved at him from the Ministry in the form of, what they're calling, a High Inquisitor."

"What on earth is a High Inquisitor?" Rose frowned. "It doesn't sound very good, does it?"

"I'm not sure what it is, I didn't catch all of that. Arthur babbled something about a toad, though. He said it'd be all in the papers tomorrow, so you might as well pick up a copy of the _Daily Prophet_."

"That sleazy piece of trash?" She snorted. "I'll not soil my hands with it anymore. But anyway...is that all? Any news about Hagrid?"

"None. Madame Maxime is home safe, though. She took back up her position at Beauxbatons. Otherwise it's just the usual. Mundungus is still bringing in contraband, Molly's still nagging everyone, Krecher's still...skulking around somewhere. Maybe I should behead the little rodent...or let Buckbeak have a go at him."

Rose chuckled. "Well, I've got essays to grade, Sirius. It's been...half-way pleasant to talk to you."

"Let's not make a habit of that," he replied, flashing her that lady-killer smile again. "You should stop by some time, keep me and Krecher company. I swear I'm going to go mad if I'm locked up here much longer."

Rose refrained from reminding him it was all his own fault, allowing Malfoy to see him as a dog at the station. "Good night, Sirius."

"Good night, Professor Evans," he responded, and then ducked back into the flames and out of sight.

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

When Rose walked into breakfast the next morning she was startled by the hushed whispers of students as they clustered together in groups at their tables, bent over...something.

She drifted over to the Slytherin table, feeling more kinship towards them than anyone else, and stood directly behind the young Malfoy brat. She caught a glimpse of the _Daily Prophet_ in his hands and he was softly reading it to Crabbe and Goyle—perhaps they really didn't know how to read. "Draco?" she asked, using her most authoritative tone of voice.

The handsome, white-haired young man looked up at her and hastily came to his feet, smirking as he always did when he thought her knew more about something than anyone else. "Yes, Professor Evans?"

"May I see your paper, Draco?" she asked in all politeness. She did not at all like the way he stood, just _slightly_ taller than she. But he handed the paper to her, still smirking, and folded his arms to watch her reaction.

Rose glanced at the front page headline—_'Ministry Taking Control of Hogwarts.'_ She winced, scanning the article quickly. "Umbridge?" she muttered when she came to the name of the newly appoint High Inquisitor—basically an enforcer of Ministry whims and a spy for Fudge—with some contempt. "What's an Umbridge?"

Draco stopped smirking to tip his chin up proudly and began to explain in a superiorly bored voice, "Ms. Dolores Umbridge is a very well known witch in political circles, Professor; she works closely with Minister Fudge at the Ministry Offices. She knows my father," he added importantly. His prefect badge caught the light momentarily, and he shrugged. "Things are going to change around here, Professor Evans."

"I wouldn't count on that, Draco," she responded then handed the paper back to him. "But I would count," she added, between clinched teeth, "on a pop quiz in Defense over vampires in a week." It didn't hurt to make the little eel think she liked him. She may need an advantage with Lucious Malfoy in the future.

He nodded smartly, not surprised he was given a hint, then retook his seat. Rose made her way up to the staff table and noted, faintly amused, that the seating arrangements had changed slightly. On Dumbledore's left there was now an empty seat and everyone had moved down one or to the opposite side of the table. Severus was sitting at the far left end, scowling darkly at his breakfast, and the chair next to him was empty. She took that one, noting that he didn't even glance up as she sat down.

"Good morning, Severus," she greeted, placing a napkin primly on her lap. "Have you seen this morning's paper?"

Severus grunted a response that said nothing.

Rose arched her eyebrows at him, smirking, and turned to her companion on her left hand. Charlie Weasley was skimming over a copy of The Daily Prophet and laughing under his breath at several articles. He caught her watching him and winked before turning the page—his version of 'good morning, and how are you today?'

"What do you make of this High Inquisitor?" Rose asked him impulsively.

At her other side, Severus again grunted something incoherent and moody.

"I think the old toad they're sending will do nothing more than irritate the staff and torture students," Charlie replied evenly, never glancing up from his paper. "Dad's worked with Dolores Umbridge quite a bit, you know, and he can't stand her. And it's difficult to get on my father's bad side."

The rest of breakfast passed pleasantly enough, with the empty chair next to Dumbledore never being filled and Severus managing to avoid all of Rose's attempts at conversation. Charlie Weasley made up for that, and Rose went to her classroom with a small smile and a hopeful attitude.

* * *

Sneak Preview: Chapter Four the fifth years get a surprise and some information in their _"Interview with a Vampire."_ And Chapter Five Rose receives _"An Invitation, and Minerva's Counsel." _Chapter six will not be revealed at this time.

Author Note: Again, Happy New Year!

A hurried (though sincere) thanks to all those who reviewed: Evil Duckie of the BlackLagoon, Mage-Aurian, Sona Camdyn, Artzfreak, mione1, emikae, Turtle (HARRY IS IN HIS FIFTH YEAR, I'm breaking away from canon), Rinny Z, Black Sheep Alone, Loraliant Angelisa Snape, Lydia (Harry, like most males, has his moments of DENSENESS), maya)-sleepy, MoonLit-Night, and Rae Roberts.

Rae: HG/SS fics are EVIL! Stay far, far, far, far, far away from them! Goodness gracious me! I hope this update saves you from one of those!

Sorry this is so hurried, but I wanted to be one of the first to post a chapter in 2005!

Love,

**_-JB-_**


	4. Interview with a Vampire

**_Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm_**

_By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large_

Beta: Foggy Librarian, as always…wonderful!

Disclaimer: Found in previous chapters of this fic.

Notes: I just finished getting myself un-blocked in a most difficult upcoming chapter. I'm so thrilled with the way I've handled things that I'm giving y'all this update much earlier than I planned to! I think some thanks are in order! ;-)

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

**_CHAPTER FOUR: Interview with a Vampire_**

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Fifth year double-Defense class was buzzing with talk when Rose entered quietly by the door, and she had to smile when she realized the students were too busy speculating about the guest speaker to even notice her entrance.

She walked slowly down the aisle of desks, smiling to herself as the students slowly quieted and fixated their attention on her robed back. Rose turned to face them, spinning on one heel and taking in their expectant faces. Some were excited by now, having actually studied their current subject, and others were looking paler and more afraid than she had ever seen them.

Neville Longbottom looked ready to faint, dead away.

Rose crossed her arms and leaned against the edge of her desk. "Students," she murmured. "There is one question none of you have asked that I feel I must answer. Any guesses of what that is?"

No one moved, even Hermione Granger looked faintly surprised.

"Harry Potter," she said, not looking at her nephew, "what class is this?"

He blinked, then shrugged. "Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"So why then are we studying vampires? Do they practice the Dark Arts? Are they themselves by-products of the Dark Arts?"

The students looked impatient. This was _not _the time for a lecture when their guest speaker could be lurking anywhere…waiting to come out and…who knew?

As usual, though, Hermione Granger raised her hand and spoke when called upon. "Nobody knows how vampires _really_ started as a species, Professor, and even vampires don't tell anyone."

Rose nodded. "We study vampires in this class because many believe them to be dangerous, heartless, and inclined to murder innocent people, muggle and magical. But how often _do_ they kill people? If they're so dangerous, why do we allow them to walk among us?"

The class met that with silence, except for Draco Malfoy who cleared his throat a little uneasily.

The professor smiled at them and sighed. "We are here today to meet a very noble, very important vampire called Andrew Mankiller. He is a Native American, and a very significant figure among vampires. He is a strong advocate for their kind. You will notice that it _is_ day time, and as such it is a time when he is weak and weary. I ask you to be mindful of this and remember to be respectful to him. He's sacrificed to be here today, it will take three nights for him to recover from one morning of sunlight. After this class, fifth year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs will receive him, I ask you not to tell them, as you pass them in the halls, too much. You may take notes; maintain the attitudes of polite scholars, please."

Even as she said the last word the door to the classroom came open and the class turned, wide-eyed and as one, to see a very tall stranger in the doorway.

Andrew Mankiller was an impressive sight—over six-feet tall, with broad shoulders, and long, shining black hair which hung down his back freely. His black eyes took in the gaping students; a confident, tight-lipped smile grew upon his face as he entered the room.

Those sitting in the aisle he walked down gasped lightly and scooted away from him, staring fixedly at him.

He wore a navy business suit, a charcoal tie, and had a red handkerchief in one pocket. "Ah, my friend Rose," he said, holding out both hands to her. "It is amazing I did not get lost in this large building—Hogwarts is quite as I expected it."

Many in the room, Rose saw as she shook hands with her old friend, looked disappointed while others were relieved.

"Andrew, this is my fifth year Gryffindor and Slytherin class of students. They were a bit anxious about meeting a real vampire."

He quirked an eyebrow up at her and then turned to take in the students, as if he'd just noticed them. "Ah!" he breathed, and grinned at them—as his incisors elongated and sharpened, causing the students to freeze.

Neville swayed dangerously.

Andrew chuckled as Rose took her seat behind her desk, also appearing amused. "Children," Andrew began brightly, his incisors receding. "It is a pleasure to meet all of you. Allow me to introduce myself...I am Andrew Mankiller, representative for the American Vampire Association—or the AVA. I am in Britain because there is a very large vampire conference going on in London just now, and I was nominated by the AVA to attend on behalf of those in the United States. I understand you all have questions for me, and that some may be hesitant to ask. Who is brave enough to go first?"

For the first time anyone could remember, Hermione Granger was not the one found shooting a hand into the air—possibly because she was too busy keeping Neville from falling out of his chair...he had turned a sickly white color.

But Draco Malfoy's hand was in the air, he was wearing his usual smug expression, and when Andrew Mankiller gestured for him to speak Draco said, slowly, "Is it true you can only live by drinking human blood?"

There was a collective shudder among the students.

"That's only partially true," Mankiller remarked, leaning back against Rose's desk. "Is it true you can only live by drinking water? No, you have to eat too. Vampires, despite popular stories, do ingest other liquids and foods to keep themselves in top form. A vampire living only on blood would be equivalent to you living only on water."

Now Hermione's hand was up. "Do you," she asked, upon acknowledgment, "consider yourself dead or living?"

"All vampires consider themselves to be alive—with an odd condition or handicap. You see, if we were completely dead we would have decomposed, or be in the process of such, and our organs would not function. I have never, I can tell you, actually died."

"Then how'd you become a vampire?" asked Ron, out of turn and without raising his hand.

"Two points from Gryffindor, Weasley," Rose said softly, but nodded for Andrew to continue.

He seemed to contemplate the question and then said, with deliberate slowness, "The process is a complicated one and even vampires do not fully understand it, though we do spread numerous theories in the hopes of someday finding one to be truer than another. For me it happened strangely—it was shortly before the American Civil War. My name, at that time, was Running Wolf. As I remember it, I was caught in a trap along with my brother by a group of white men. They tortured me nearly to the point of death, it seems they took me for an Indian who had kidnapped a small child from their village. I didn't speak their tongue at the time; I only realized what their angry words to me had meant years later.

"But I was left for dead in the woods and my brother was left the same. He died from his wounds before the vampire arrived, and I was on the verge of passing through that veil myself. The vampire who came upon me happened that way by chance, and he was an Aztec Indian. You see, the theory that worked in my behalf was that my life hung by a thread when the vampire found me. He was old, and so he was powerful in the ways of our people…his _blood_ was old. He fed me blood from his own wrist, and the 'power-surge,' you could call it, healed me with the side effect that I became one of his kind."

The majority of the students had become interested enough in his story that they had forgotten to be nervous, and hands began to shoot up at a rapid pace.

"What makes a vampire powerful?"

"How strong are you?"

"Can you turn into any animals?"

"Was there really a Count Dracula?"

"What do you think of the rights given to vampires in England?"

"Does being a Native American affect your views on your condition?"

"Have you ever killed anyone for blood?"

The class period was almost up, and the questions kept coming. Many were taking furious notes, and Hermione Granger had given up and cast a 'quick-quotes' spell on her quill. The lesson was, to Rose's relief, a hit.

The last question Andrew took was from Draco Malfoy, who asked frankly, "Do the majority of vampires favor the Dark Arts or the legal magicks?"

Andrew hesitated and then answered very carefully, "Vampires are like everyone else, all lean towards their own beliefs and opinions and are as equally divided as those of the wizarding world are. My own loyalties are pitted against the Dark Arts, in my country and in any other where they may be practiced."

Rose came to her feet, holding back a grin. "Your assignment for the week, class, is to give me twelve inches of parchment—" this was met by groans, "—on what you've learned today and your opinion on the rights of vampires. So long as the essay is coherent and shows that you took _some_ interest and active part in today's lesson I can safely say you'll receive an E." This heartened many. "Class dismissed."

Andrew slipped through the door which adjoined the classroom to her office, and once the room had cleared Rose joined him. He was seated in the chair behind her desk—_her_ chair—leaning back with his eyes closed and a taut expression on his face.

"That was exhausting," he said when he heard the door open. "But I'm glad I came. If I can clear up misconceptions about my people by speaking to children as open-minded as those were I can do a lot for vampires."

Rose chuckled and took the other empty chair, the one she usually had her students sit in. She did not begrudge him the more comfortable seat, and he knew she wouldn't. "I'm very glad you came, too, Andrew."

He opened one eye and grinned at her, she saw his incisors had elongated slightly. "For more reasons than one?" he suggested playfully.

She rolled her eyes. "Not in the way you mean, but it is good to see an old friend."

"Hm. I see Rose Evans and Primrose Maloy at least have the same personality," he remarked, referring to the alias she had used during her time in the Everglades. He had been a part of many of the studies conducted by the wizarding institution there—an institution actually set up by the U.S. government and the United Wizarding Order of America to experiment with potions, magic, and muggle instruments of healing and war. It was a base equivalent to Area 51, and the Salem Project which went on in the Northern states, hidden carefully beneath the swamps of the Everglades in Florida.

"Meaning what? I'm a prude?" She smiled and shrugged. "Sorry, Andrew, but I'm still not interested in pursuing a relationship with you."

"It's because I'm 'Undead,' isn't it?" he asked, teasingly. "Never figured you for a racist."

She shook her head then checked the time-piece on her desk. "The next class should be filling in soon. Are you ready?"

"I am always ready, despite the infernal sunshine outside," he replied, coming to his feet and stretching his long frame. He idly flexed his arms, then rolled his shoulders back. "But I haven't gotten my hug yet, you know. I came all this way to help you out and not even a hug...."

Rose rolled her eyes but stood and came around her desk to wrap her arms around his waist and offer him a friendly, warm embrace—

Of course, the door swung open just as the vampire began to return it.

It was Severus Snape, all ready scowling when he walked in with a parchment in his hand, but he stopped dead upon seeing the embrace Rose had locked herself into.

The witch looked over her shoulder in time to see a look of pain flash over his features before he schooled them into the impassive, grim look that he was so famous for through-out the school. It was a look that, when students saw it, sent them scuttling into corners and shadows to escape him. It was his controlled fury expression—cold and hard.

But Rose did not leap away from her old friend; she only backed slowly from Andrew's embrace and offered Severus a kind smile. She felt no need to explain herself to him, unless he sought an explanation. "Good morning again, Severus. I'd like to introduce you to Andrew Mankiller—he's an old friend from Florida."

His lip curled back in distaste. "Ah...the vampire."

Andrew crossed his muscular arms across his wide chest and cocked an eyebrow at the thin wizard, eyeing him speculatively. "_This_ is him?" he asked. Rose, as Primrose in Florida, had once or twice mentioned the man who broke her heart to those closest to her. Andrew had been one of those to needle her—he had always wanted to know why she wouldn't pursue a serious relationship with the males of her acquaintance, including himself.

Severus gave them both a highly suspicious glare, then thrust the parchment he held towards Rose. "You may be interested in this. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a class to teach."

She took the parchment from him and nodded politely, though he had all ready turned away and was out the door before she could say another word. Rose sighed and put the parchment on her desk. She would look over it later on… she also had a class to teach.

"You were in love with that coyote?" Andrew asked, smirking. "Did you have a death wish too?"

"Oh, shut-up," she answered, feeling a headache coming on. "Everyone's always judging him before they know him. _Every_one. It's getting old." She went to the door to her classroom. "Give me five minutes to prep them and then make your grand entrance."

Andrew watched her leave, then went back to her desk and opened the top drawer with a suspicious thought. Sure enough, sitting in plain sight once the drawer was open was a picture of a young Rose and a young Severus bent over a book together. "She _still_ loves him," he muttered to himself, somewhat disbelieving. "Ai, poor little girl."

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Severus Snape took points away from Slytherin—only five, but it was enough to worry those of his house that something was terribly wrong. It spread quickly through the ranks of Slytherin, and slipped quietly to the other houses through eavesdroppers, not to mess with Snape. He was in what the students were calling a 'mood.'

Dinner came, finding the great hall full of excited chatter especially from the fifth year students who had met with the vampire. The teachers were seated up at the table, in their new arrangements with Rose seated in-between Severus and Charlie Weasley. Since Severus wasn't speaking to anyone, and looked to be in a blacker mood than ever, Rose tactfully ignored him and discussed dragons with Charlie. The young wizard was always charming and a fun sort of person to be around.

Rose also understood, from numerous accounts by the students, that he was getting on very well teaching the new course, Interactions with Other Species. It was an optional class, for fourth years and up, which was actually very political and included sections on Centaurs, House Elves, Giants, and even Goblins. Charlie's plan was to invite his brother, Bill Weasley, to come in for a special lesson on interactions with Goblins. Of course, the real reason the elder Weasley son was there was to help Dumbledore keep an eye on the students and offer protection. Charlie Weasley was a quick-thinker, had made a name for himself working with dragons, and was a wonderful addition to the staff.

The other additions to the staff were doing well, though Rose knew little of them and had made no effort to get to know them. Indeed, she hadn't made an effort to get to know Charlie—he had forced his cheerful disposition on her until she learned to enjoy it.

He was telling Rose the tale of a small scar he bore across the right of his jaw when the room seemed to hush.

Rose looked up from her conversation to see what had caught the students' attention and her jaw dropped.

Scurrying up the corridor towards the main table was an enormous toad.

Wearing pink. A pink _cardigan_ and bow.

Smiling—no, _beaming_, at everyone around her.

She was seated in the chair on Albus Dumbledore's left side in moments, and the uncomfortable, uneasy stares of the students rested on the Headmaster to see what he would make of this amphibious growth sitting so near him.

Only a few in the room recognized her, and Harry Potter was among those few. Rose saw that by glancing his direction—he looked angry, and white.

"_That_," Charlie Weasley was saying, whispering in her ear, "is Dolores Umbridge."

This was the spy Cornelius Fudge had sent to them? A harmless, pink toad with all the height of a dwarf and all the brains (it looked like) of a troll? _'Wonderful,'_ Rose thought, clenching her teeth again. _'And she was at Harry's trial.'_

Indeed, from where she sat she could see Harry and his constant companions—Granger and Weasley—talking furiously amongst themselves as they kept glancing towards the professors' table.

Albus Dumbledore stood once Dolores Umbridge had seated herself, and indeed he looked highly pleased with the situation. "Students, many of you have heard of the Ministry's generous offer to allow us to host a member of their ranks here at the school. Madame Dolores Umbridge, I am delighted to introduce, is the first Hogwarts High Inquisitor this school has ever had the privilege to house. We look forward to her insights—" Many of the staff hardly appeared to do so. "—and to the contribution she will make to our illustrious school. I do hope you will all make Madame Umbridge feel welcome and treat her respectfully." Was it Rose's imagination or had Dumbledore looked very pointedly towards Gryffindor table? "Now, I hope you enjoy tonight's feast as much as—"

"_Hem, Hem_," Dolores Umbridge said. Rose, along with many others blinked at her, surprised she had interrupted the Headmaster.

Indeed, the Professors looked scandalized, and Rose was among their number. Even in her days at Hogwarts no one had ever interrupted the Headmaster. Severus, on one side, had curled his lips back in distaste while Charlie Weasley, on her other side, had his mouth hanging open in surprise.

Albus Dumbledore, always ready for what the world threw at him, only looked surprised for a flicker of an instant before sitting back down and looking at Dolores Umbridge as if there was nothing he wanted more at that moment than to listen to what she had to say. It was hard to tell the woman was standing but, Rose saw with disgust, standing she was.

Immediately Rose wondered just how ignorant and presumptuous that toady little witch was.

Her voice, as it emerged from her beaming smile, was grating on the nerves of most. It was high-pitched, breathy, and little-girlish. Rose wanted to strangle her instantly. She cleared her throat with that annoying 'hem, hem' again before speaking. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" Her teeth were pointed. "And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"

Rose felt nauseas and checked to make certain that none of the students were looking happy—they weren't, thank Merlin.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!" She cleared her throat as students murmured to each other, the general tone being amusement. As Umbridge continued her voice took on a more grown-up quality, and she sounded as if she were repeating the rest of her speech from memory. "The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lost them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

She stopped to make a little bow to those professors seated around her, though none returned the gesture. Rose glanced at Charlie to see his eye twitch with annoyance, while Severus looked as if he were about to be sick—he had gone very pale and tight-lipped.

Umbridge cleared her throat with that annoying cough again. "Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for out tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation, must be achieved."

Rose glanced at the students to see how they were taking this speech and wasn't at all surprised to see very little of them were paying any attention now. Umbridge could not command the attention that Albus Dumbledore alone seemed capable of. She, however, quickly turned her attention back to this very dangerous toad.

"That is why I am here, to help as changes are made and traditions are reaffirmed, because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited." She abruptly retook her seat.

Without hesitation, Dumbledore clapped for her. Reluctantly, Rose brought her hands up to follow suit, but only patted her hands together once before dropping them into her lap. A smattering of applause came from the students as well but ended quickly.

"Thank you very much, Madame Umbridge that was most illuminating." He bowed to her. "Now, on with our wonderfully prepared feast—as delicious as all the others as our kitchen staff has outdone themselves once again!"

Rose had tensed during Umbridge's speech, angrily, wondering what the froggy woman meant and having a horrible feeling she all ready knew. But the Headmaster continued to sit, smiling pleasantly as he carried on a conversation with members of the staff near enough to converse.

She was tense enough that, when a hand dropped on her shoulder from behind, she gasped and jumped slightly to look up—and up—at Andrew Mankiller. He flashed her a smile, looking normal enough, and she remembered he had been waiting until sundown to join the staff for dinner. A chair had materialized between she and Charlie Weasley, and the table had grown slightly longer without inconveniencing anyone.

Andrew took his seat, introduced himself to Charlie politely, and tapped the goblet before him. It filled with a red substance which was thick and dark—Rose didn't even _want_ to know how the house elves had managed to get _blood _for the vampire.

Severus was looking up from his plate, only to glare holes into Andrew Mankiller's wide smile and muscular frame.

"Well, this is a charming set-up," Andrew was saying, glancing carefully around him. A few students had noticed his entry—fifth years would smile or wave shyly, but the rest of the school had no idea a vampire had just set down among them. The news would, of course, spread quickly once it was discovered but Rose doubted there would come any trouble from it.

Abruptly she remembered the parchment Severus had left for her—it remained unread at her desk. She determined she would retrieve it after dinner, before turning in for the night. Andrew would be leaving for London again, right after he said goodbye to her. She would miss him—he'd been a good friend to her while she was in Florida. He was, she well knew, one of the warmer vampires in the world. Which was why he was one of their political favorites—they said he was _almost_ human and could therefore negotiate better with mortals.

Dolores Umbridge continued chatting with the staff, smiling her sickly-sweet smile and beaming at the students by turns.

Rose all ready hated her.

Severus excused himself from the table—or stormed away and out the back entrance at any rate—shortly after Andrew had shown up. The wizard still had not said a word to Rose, and she was beginning to wonder if he really was the same man, that man wishing so desperately for hope, who had kissed her but a short time before. He was so dark and withdrawn; she wondered if she even knew how to reach him anymore.

Andrew and Charlie kept her attention diverted through most of dinner, and she walked Andrew out to the castle steps to give him a hug and bid him a good journey. A carriage, pulled by thestrals, waited to take him to Hogsmeade where he could catch a train back to London without worrying about another dawn weakening him further.

Rose walked slowly through the corridors, strolling past favorite haunts with a wry smile. She walked past Peeves at one point, he seemed to be sulking. Upon seeing her he blew his nose rudely and drifted through a wall. Perhaps the Bloody Baron had caught him at something and forced him to behave for a time? Who knew with Peeves.

She drifted into her classroom with a nostalgic smile in place. She went to her desk in the dark knowing her way easily, and she had just raised her arm and wand to cast enough light, in order to look for the parchment, when a hand came from behind and covered her mouth.

An arm pinned hers to her side, hot breath against her cheek made her body grow cold and tense.

"Surprise," a voice whispered darkly.

* * *

This chapter was inspired by the work of **Charlaine**** Harris**, who is writing a fabulous series of Southern Vampiric Mysteries. Get this, the heroine of the books is a telepathic waitress with a vampire boyfriend from the Civil War era. It's a great series, and I highly recommend it! 

**Sneak Preview**: Chapter Five is bustling along, with _An Invitation, and Minerva's Counsel_ (title subject to change…I don't like it much). What on earth could Minerva McGonagall have to say to our lovely, dark Rose? Chapter Six is _Nuisances and Decrees_, and let me tell you Umbridge isn't winning any friends in that one. Chapter Seven contains a bit of frustrating romance as Severus finds himself _Playing with Fire_.

**Author's Note**: Okay, I'm really ticked off that my update didn't have the time-stamp on it that I wanted. It was 12:30 AM in my time-zone—it had been the new year for HALF AND HOUR—when I updated. Oh well. As my buddy Hoggle says, you can't be right all the time.

**_To My Charming, Darling, Dear, Lovely, Enchanting Reviewers (Yes, I love you guys!):_**

**Evil Duckie of the BlackLagoon**: Updating as fast as I can, Duckie! How was your New Year celebration?

**Sona**** Camdyn**: Yes, Umbridge. The woman we love to hate is back with a vengeance! As for Sirius Black, I'm very fond of him myself but I'll tell you Rose is not the girl for him. I know someone who is, though…. Yes, that is a hint that I've got an fic swirling in my brain for him. If I don't kill him off at the end of this story, that is….

**Turtle**: All my updates can't be long, but I do try. I actually type them in Notepad first, and then paste them into word for my beta and editing purposes. In Notepad I try to type enough to get me above 12k. This particular chapter was around 17k, so a little longer than normal. But you really didn't want to know all that, did you?

**Kiss-of-Cuteness**: I'm ignoring what you said about HG/SS pairings. I'd die before enjoying one of those. Blah. Just not my cup of tea. As you can probably guess, Rose and Umridge are about to clash…and what an impact it will be.

**Dianatyne**: Sounds like you had a happy new year. :-) Glad you're still along for the ride.

**Black Sheep Alone**: The clash is coming…looming upon the horizon…growing so very close…. Do please keep your new year's resolution, I'd love to hear from you each and every chapter! (My resolution was to update more often but, ssshhhhh, don't tell anyone else that!)

**Maya)-sleepy**: Rose hates Umbridge all ready. The plot thickens!

**Loraliant**** Angelisa Snape**: Thank you so much for enjoying the last chapter! It's good to know you care. Now, Dahling, hang on to your broom because the weather's about to get rougher.

**Kerichi**: I'm reading your fic! It's wonderful! **_Simply Irresistible_** is yet another of the few out there which keeps Snape in character. I haven't reviewed it yet, I'm trying to catch up to the end of what you've got so far. Awesome stuff! I totally agree with you about HG/SS pairings. There's a lot of sickos out there who like that kind of thing and then run around bashing OCs as Mary Sues. I had someone accuse me of self-inserting myself in this fic. Ha! As to having Rose 'explain' what happened in the last story…hehehe. Well, I'll drop some hints about the past here and there as a reminder but you really should just go read the first one. I know, I know. I'm being a nasty little Slytherin about it.

**Heather**: I'm flattered I've inspired someone to do artwork of my story! Very flattered! I do thank you for the review, and I encourage you to drop more. Reviews keep me going—it was someone's review that inspired one of the upcoming chapters to turn into the longest chapter I've written yet. So…is your artwork any good? ;-)

**Illume**: The ride's getting bumpier, dear. I'm glad you're sticking with me. There IS a plotline here, I promise, but if I told you what it was it would defeat the purpose of…well…I can't tell you.

**Arashi7**: Hiya, honey! Thank you for the great review (you did NOT review chapter two! But s'ok, I've forgiven you). Rose was a Slytherin, though one of the less hostile variety. In an original draft of this story she was actually a very good friend of Remus Lupin's and he inspired her in her chosen field (medical magic). But I lost that somewhere, it made a plot hole. Ah well.

**Rae Roberts**: Thank's for catching the error. Kreacher. I knew that—I did, really! Severus is, I hope, staying true to form in his actions. He'll be playing a larger roll in the upcoming chapters as will, I'm afraid to say, his arch enemy. ;-) Draco's so much fun to mess with, the little Ferret!

**Nabenabe**: Goodness me, you're making me blush with those very kind reviews! I thank you very much for them. I went back and read the first chapter of RAtT and I'm surprised I still have so many people reading—it wasn't at all a good chapter. Not even coherent. You know, I'm tempted to post the first draft of that story—it's very different from where it ended up. Hm. See you very soon!

**Claire**: YES! I've ensnared another helpless victim of Snape-fever! I do hope you enjoy the continuation of my character and our beloved Potion's Master. See you next chapter!

**Jack it up Judy**: I'm running over to check out your fic now! I'm very pleased I've acted as a muse for you, and even happier you're enjoying this fic. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!

Thank you dearest readers, I beg of you to remember to review! I live off of these reviews some days!

**_-JB-_**


	5. Invitation, Advice, and Evaluation

**_Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm_**

_By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large_

**Beta**: Many thanks to Foggy Librarian, who came in half-way through the last fic and wouldn't take credit for all her hard work. She is now also beta-ing for Montana, who I strongly recommend as a great Severus/OC author.

**Disclaimer**: This is to be the last I post for this story (but there ARE many more chapters coming, I'm just sick of taking up this space). I DO NOT own Harry Potter or the magical world in which he lives. Only Rose and her interference in the world is mine.

**Notes**: I'm turning out chapters with record speed right now. Well…a record for me. The reason for my inspiration is at the end of this chapter. Enjoy!

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

**_CHAPTER FIVE: Invitation, Advice, and Evaluation_**

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Rose relaxed abruptly, recognizing the voice of the wizard who had grabbed her from behind, but she muttered a low curse. "You idiot! What on earth are you doing here?"

Sirius Black released her and grinned at her through the darkness—she quickly brought her wand up to cast a soft glow over him to make certain of his identity. "I came to find out about my godson and his Occlumency lessons. I'm not about to walk in and surprise Snape, so I popped over here to see what you knew. You _have_ checked up on him since our last communication, haven't you?"

She dropped into her chair and snatched up the parchment Snape had given her earlier that day. "No, I have not. Sirius Black, there's a hundred things going on every day that I have to worry about—and you know very well that Harry would tell someone if there was a problem."

"I'm not so sure of that. The boy is very independent—like his father," he said with a trace of admiration.

"Oh. So Harry's a bully too?" Rose asked snappishly, unfolding the parchment. It seemed everything that went on that day was meant to irritate her.

Snape's parchment only made things worse.

It was an invitation from Lucius Malfoy. Another dinner party. Snape was to bring an escort. In Narcissa's neat, looping script she had added to the printed invitation that she hoped to 'reacquaint' herself with her 'dear friend Rose.' In reality, the invitation was a veiled command. If Severus Snape showed up at Malfoy Manor without Rose as his escort he would face consequences—likewise if he didn't show up at all.

Sirius had watched her read the parchment, and watched her expression sour. "Good news, hm?" he asked, going to one of her bookcases to examine what she had. "You keep this office tidier than Lupin did."

"Sirius," she said slowly, wearily, "I know you didn't come all the way to Hogwarts to check on Harry. You could've done that through the floo or by speaking to Dumbledore. What do you want?"

He didn't look at her. "Nothing much."

Rolling her eyes, Rose abruptly stood and left her office. Startled by her sudden departure, it took Sirius a moment to catch up to her.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" he asked once he'd caught up—not a real problem with his long strides.

"To bed," she answered curtly. "I'm tired."

"Oh." He walked alongside her quietly for a moment. "Umbridge is here?"

"Yes, so it isn't safe for you to be seen. Sirius, it would break Harry's heart if you were captured or harmed, taking a risk by showing up at Hogwarts to stalk me is perhaps the stupidest thing you could do right now."

"You don't know what it's like to sit at that horrible house all day, and be of no use," he muttered angrily.

Rose stopped in her tracks and she looked for a moment as if she'd hit him, so angry was she. "Don't you _ever_ tell me that I don't _know_ what things are like, Black. I am not a closeted innocent; I have had my share of pain, grief, guilt, and the like. I lost a lot, just like you did, and I'll thank you to remember that." Her face was white, her green eyes snapped up at him like a dragon's might. "I know _exactly_ how you feel—what do you think I'd been doing for fifteen years in exile? What do you think I had to witness and experience to go away as I did? Until you know what you're talking about, shut-up."

When she continued her progress through the corridors towards her room he didn't follow, his original purpose in coming forgotten. He had actually sought her out to talk to her about Harry—about worries he had, concerns, questions. She was in a prime position to tell him all about his godson and help him learn how to help Harry despite his restraints, and now he had caused her to lose her temper.

It was also Sirius Black's duty to keep an eye on Rose, to test her limits when he could. How he was supposed to spy on her, though, while he was in London and she in the wilds of Scotland was beyond him. He was certain Albus had only given him the assignment to make him feel better about being confined.

But...would the Headmaster really give him such a task? He hadn't thought so.... He had been told to watch Rose, to gain her trust, and to help keep her on the right side of the line. He interpreted this to mean he had to spy on her. But why him?

Shrugging to himself, Sirius turned and went back down the corridors, ready to let himself out of the castle the same way he had let himself in.

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

"She's going to be doing _what?_" McGonagall asked, frowning darkly. "Evaluate _us?_ In heaven's name, why?"

The staff was gathered in Albus Dumbledore's office, standing or sitting as the desire took them, as he explained what Dolores Umbridge, High Inquisitor, would be doing for the next week.

Hagrid still wasn't back, so Grubbly-Plank was the teacher standing in for him. The staff was quiet for the most part as Albus read to them the decree from the Ministry.

"But can they do that?" Sir Roberts asked. "The government isn't over-stepping bounds with that?"

Severus, from his place in a shadowed corner of the office, snorted and rolled his eyes. Some people were far too naive about the proceedings of the _real_ world. Roberts probably even thought Lucius Malfoy had earned his positions on the various political boards based on his merit alone.

He was surprised, but gave no sign of such, when a small hand was placed upon his arm. He looked down his hooked nose, narrowing his eyes, at the worried face of Rose. "Evans," he greeted, not moving or saying a word more.

She cocked an eyebrow at him, but shrugged. "If that's the way you want it, Severus," she said softly. "But I was wondering about the invitation from Lucius...."

He sighed and glanced up, assuring himself that the other professors--minus Trelawny, who was predicting their dire futures by reading the phoenix droppings in Fawkes's cage—were too busy speaking of Umbridge to eavesdrop. "This Sunday. You coming?"

"Of course, from the wording I didn't think I had much of an option if you were to avoid a brutal punishment for failing to bring me."

"How nice to know you care," he muttered snidely. "We leave at eight."

"On a school night?" she asked, smirking slightly.

He didn't comment.

"Severus, I wish you'd cut it out."

"I don't know what you're referring to."

"I see right through your act, sir, I know you too well."

"A wizard can change a lot in fifteen years, Evans," he answered coolly, glaring down at her.

"That's not my name," she bit out in return, her head tilted back and her eyes burning with frustration. "Stop being so difficult!"

He bent slightly, bringing them to equal eye level, and in a low tone said, "I'm not the one being difficult. You're the one demanding I inform you of all my intentions before so much as touching you."

"Did I say that?" she asked, feigning innocence. "Somehow I don't remember saying that. Severus, I just want to know what you expect of me and—"

Someone cleared their throat. The argument ceased, the witch and wizard looked up to see their colleagues staring at them with faint amusement—McGonagall with slight disapproval. Albus Dumbledore was beaming at them.

"Care to let us in on your discussion, Severus? Rose?" he asked politely, and the two guilty parties exchanged a relieved glance. Perhaps they hadn't been overheard.

"Just comparing notes, Headmaster," Rose volunteered when Severus remained silent for a heartbeat longer. "Talking about...er...bone-marrow elixir."

"I would appreciate it, Rose, if you both would remain on task," he chided lightly, still smiling his secretive smile. "Save your private conversations for more appropriate situations."

For the first time in years Rose felt herself blushing like a school girl caught staring at her crush, and Severus paled a little but said nothing—his lips tightened together to form an almost straight line.

They avoided looking at each other during the rest of the meeting, which was soon over. Severus hurried from the room, while Rose lingered to speak to McGonagall for a moment about this Dolores Umbridge person.

McGonagall, however, was looking at her suspiciously. "Rose Evans," she said as they left the Headmaster's office together, "You're a brilliant young woman, even if you have odd...tastes." She was, of course, referring to Severus Snape.

"I know." Rose sighed and her shoulders slumped slightly. "I guess everyone has their faults."

Minerva stopped in her tracks and turned to capture Rose's eyes in a firm stare. "I did not say it was a fault, I only said it was odd. Different. And there's nothing wrong, Rose, with being different." She took up their walk again and Rose kept in step with the taller woman, bemused. She hadn't figured McGonagall for a romantic advisor.

"I was in love once," Minerva said quietly, seriously, and Rose blinked up at her in surprise. "He was very dear to me. Very stubborn, too, like our potion's master though not as dark. We were even engaged." Her smile was sad; she kept her eyes straight ahead as they walked. "Then we quarreled once, about something we both had strong opinions on. I wanted to teach, he wanted to travel, and neither of us wanted to back down. In the end he left, and I studied to become an animangus and a professor of Transfiguration. I wrote a little, for magazines, and tutored small wizards and witches for some time. But then I came to Hogwarts, and the rest...is ancient history, I'm afraid."

"What about the wizard?" Rose asked and then wished she hadn't. What business was it of hers?

"He wasn't a wizard," Minerva answered quietly, her shoulders heaved in a quiet sigh. "He was just a man. A normal, mortal, muggle man. He did travel, very widely, for a few years. Then he got married to a muggle woman, they had a few children. He died before his first grand child was born, in an accident—in a fire." Her voice, usually so firm and strong, was soft and trembled. "His widow knew of me—apparently he spoke of me on occasion—and I was invited to the funeral. He looked so handsome...even in death. I will tell you now, Rose Snape, that I have only one great regret in my life."

Rose only dimly registered the name she was called by, the tears in her eyes and the anguish of McGonagall's voice as they passed through the silent corridors was enough to suffocate her emotions for the moment. She found her heart aching for the older witch, as if her own heart had cracked for a love that didn't last.

"That regret, my dear," Minerva continued quietly, "is that I wouldn't compromise—I was too busy being proud and stubborn, thinking that I knew better than he did what we needed. Now look...here I am, teaching as I dreamed I would. I love my students, Rose, and I enjoy my job—but it is all I have now."

"Oh, Minerva," Rose whispered, reaching out to gently touch the other woman's shoulder.

Minerva McGonagall looked down at the witch, tears glittering in her eyes. "Those who go before us make mistakes so we don't have to, Rose. Remember that."

They continued to walk in silence, each feeling a measure of grief over a very tragic thing—the loss of love and the broken heart of a lonely woman.

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Dolores Umbridge made her first inspection during Professor Grubbly-Plank's class, during fifth year double-Care of Magical Creatures. But before long every student and teacher recognized the squat frog-faced witch, usually wearing an odd combination of bright pink and violet, smiling her way down and up the corridors of the school.

Rose was prepared, therefore, when she was the second teacher to be sent a polite note informing her of her pending evaluation. To take place during Double-Defense with the Slytherin and Grffindor fifth years.

"She must have it in for Harry," Rose muttered as she crumpled up the note from Umbridge. She prepared for class as was usual, but set up a special chair near her desk that was upholstered in a dark pink and was wide enough to accommodate the High Inquisitor.

Dolores arrived three minutes before the first student did, and spared Rose one sickly-sweet smile before taking her seat in the upholstered chair. She began going over her notes, narrowing her beady eyes and turning her lips up in that horrible smile.

Rose decided she looked a great deal like a cross between a gorilla and the cat-who-got-the-canary.

Students began to file in, talking excitedly about what the follow-up could be after a vampire interview. They quieted quickly, however, upon seeing Umbridge beaming at them. Or leering at them, as some might interpret the look to be as ill-favored as it was.

As soon as everyone was seated, Rose opened a drawer from her desk and pulled out a stack of thin parchment. "Pop quiz!" she said brightly, and the papers went flying from her hands to land in front of each student amid their groans and sighs. Only Lucius Malfoy's son, and a few of his closer comrades, smiled.

That wasn't lost on Hermione Granger, who quickly pointed out the fact to Ron and Harry. Harry glanced at Malfoy, then at his aunt with a most accusing glare. She ignored him, and gave them five minutes to complete the five questions on the quiz.

Dolores Umbridge was scratching away on her own parchment, smirking to herself.

The five minutes were up sooner than some would have liked, and Rose had the papers in her hands again in an instant. Then she put the papers back in her desk and smiled in a friendly way towards her students.

"There isn't much," she began, brightly, "that I can do to top the last class, and I would like to express my thanks that so many of you ventured to put questions to our guest speaker. The parchment I requested last period is due today, of course, by the end of class. Now, as Mr. Mankiller told us towards the end of our last period, Vampires are not all dedicated to the Dark Arts. In fact, a great many British Vampires have helped the Ministry in covert operations to—"

"_Hem hem_," coughed Dolores Umbridge.

Rose paused and cast a curious glance towards the High Inquisitor. "Do you need a glass of water, Madame Umbridge?"

"No, no, dear. I was just wondering..." she glanced around the room, beaming at everyone again, "if it is really appropriate for you to be telling mere _children_ so much about such a horrifying creature—Vampires, you know, are highly dangerous."

Rose suppressed the urge to chuckle at the ignorant witch before her and instead gestured to Lucius Malfoy's son. "Draco, from your own experience, would you say that Vampires are highly dangerous?"

To the surprise of every Gryffindor in the room, Draco Malfoy shook his head and smirked. "No. Vampires are highly intelligent, powerful, but they seem no more dangerous than any wizard might." It was, for him, incredibly mature and for half a moment even Hermione Granger didn't mind him so much. After all, he was sticking up for Harry's aunt.

"There," Rose returned her smile to Dolores. "You see, Madame Umbridge, last week we enjoyed the privilege of interviewing a Vampire in this very classroom."

Dolores looked shocked, she opened her mouth to say something but—

"Now, if you don't mind, I really must get on with this lesson. I'll be more than happy to answer any questions you have, Madame, when the lecture is over." She deliberately turned her back to the High Inquisitor, ignoring the 'humph' and the hurried scratching of Umbridge's quill on her clipboard.

The lecture went well; she discussed tactics of fighting 'Dark Vampires' with her students. Then she drew out of a locked cabinet four objects. One was a string of garlic, another was a vial of clear liquid, there was an iron crucifix, and a wooden stake. She laid them out on Hermione Granger's desk, which was in the midst of the others, and picked up the vial of liquid. "Any guess as to what this is?"

Neville Longbottom raised his hand almost in sync with Hermione. She called on the boy, who stuttered out, "Holy water?"

"Excellent! Five points to Gryffindor," Rose responded, smiling kindly at the boy. "How did you come upon that conclusion, Neville?"

"Because I've been reading up on Vampires since Mr. Mankiller came, and the other things you have are known weapons for...um...killing them and the only thing missing was Holy water."

"What, children_, is_ Holy water?"

Pansy raised her hand, though she looked unsure. "Isn't it water blessed by a church?"

"By a clergy man, yes," Rose returned. "Five points to Slytherin. According to Muggles, anyway. Water is an irritant to Vampires, but having a man of the cloth, muggle or magical, bless it makes it no more potent. Implying, of course, that not all Vampires are evil and need to be vanquished by—" she held up the crucifix, "religion. Crosses, I'm sorry to say, have no harmful properties either. Unless, of course, they're made of silver." She then lifted the garlic and offered her students a wry smile. "What about garlic?"

"Professor Quirrel always wore some," a Slytherin girl answered.

"And we all know what sort of person _he_ was, don't we?" Rose said lightly, smirking. "A bit of a fool."

"_Hem hem_," Dolores coughed.

Rose sighed. "Later, Madame," she said lightly, not even turning to look at the toady woman but she again heard the quill scratch frantically in Umbridge's hand. "Anyway," she continued. "Vampires _are_ allergic to garlic, but it would only kill them if, say, you threw them in a wagonload of the stuff. The most it will really do, if you wore it around your neck, would be to cause a Vampire's eyes to itch and his nose to run."

Laughter followed that statement, and then Ron Weasley ventured, "What about a stake through the heart?"

Rose lifted the dangerous looking piece of wood, raising her eyebrows. "I think, Ron, that a stake through anyone's heart would kill them." There were amused glances traded by the students. The old wives' tales they'd been hearing all their lives were disappearing rapidly from their belief systems. "Stakes are affective—if you can get close enough to use them. As we all know Vampires are very powerful—if you ever came upon a Dark Vampire many of the spells you know would be ineffective. They are immune to most magics. Silver, we know, can do great damage if you manage to pierce a Vampire with such. But if you can't fight at close range, what would you do? Yes, Hermione?"

"According the textbook," she said, placing a hand almost reverently on this year's selection, _'Defending Against the Dark Arts,' _by Sanglet Daimon. "Unforgivable Curses work, but so does any curse or hex which would decapitate or imprison a vampire."

Nodding gravely, Rose slipped her wand from a pocket in her robes and waved—a suit of armor appeared at the back of the classroom.

"Move your desks to either side of the room, please." There was a flurry of movement as the students did so. "Now, watch me _carefully_. The spell I'm going to use is 'Carnificous.' _Carnifico_ from the Latin—to behead, or mangle. The wrist movement is abrupt, even harsh. It is a swift slash from left to right and then up, like a cutting motion."

Neville swallowed and went pale, Hermione watched raptly, while the rest of the class fell somewhere in-between these reactions.

_"Carnificous!"_ Rose shouted, pointing to the suit of armor, whipping her wand to the right and jerking it upward with speed—

The helmet on the suit of armor twisted harshly around then flew off, hitting one of the walls with a loud "THWANG" before crashing to the floor. "Violent, perhaps, but it is _the_ most effective way to kill a Dark vampire. On a real vampire, rather than a suit of armor, this would not actually decapitate him. It would hurt him badly enough, however, that you could escape or use further skills to insure his imprisonment. You'll want to be sure it's a Dark vampire you're doing this to, of course, or—"

"_HEM HEM_," Dolores coughed, jumping to her feet and scuttling over. "I must protest, Professor Evans, that this is far too violent an action to teach innocent children who will likely _never_ encounter _any_ magical person or creature affiliating with the Dark Arts. The Ministry has made certain that there are no such threats to society and—"

"And this is _my _classroom, Madame Umbridge," Rose interrupted, her face composed and calm. "I highly suggest you remain silent while I am teaching as you are likely to distract my students from their lessons. Students," she turned her attention to them again, "I will warn you now that, while this is not an Unforgivable, it is highly dangerous. Thankfully, it does not work on wizards—far too volatile to work on wizards and witches—but only on other powerful creatures. Werewolves, vampires, even trolls if you are powerful enough to manage it. It has something to do with the blood running through the veins of the being you attack, and their own magical abilities. A vampire wizard, then, would be immune to this spell as well. Your assignment this week is six inches, a brief explanation, of parchment dedicated to three curses usable against vampires and werewolves. I'm sure Madame Pince will be happy to help you with this research. Please turn in your assignment from class last week in—" she looked at the hourglass on her desk, "—five minutes. You may use this time to polish up your essay. Next class period we will go over the less violent attacks for dangerous magical beings."

There were murmurs of appreciation as the children hurried back to their desks to dig out their essays for last-minute corrections.

Now she turned her attention fully to Dolores Umbridge, and she looked down her nose at the indignant, ignorant witch with a sneer Severus Snape would have been impressed by. "_Now_, Madame, you may have your say."

* * *

**Author's Note**: I have a new obsession and I'm convinced, now more than ever, that I have a serious weakness for 'irredeemable' men. Men in black. Men who have torment and torture in their past. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I went to see The Phantom of the Opera. I've always wanted to see it, but I could never find anyone to go with me. Well, my sister decided she wanted to see it because Gerard Butler was hot. So we went and I fell in love with the music, cried for Erik, and...well, _HE SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN THE BLINKIN', IDIOT GIRL!_ Ugh. I wanted to strangle Christine at the end of the movie (yes, yes, the movie, I know, I've heard it's not at all as good as the Broadway play or the book, I'm in the process of borrowing both from the library). Between Severus Snape, Erik, The Beast, Wolverine, Anakin Skywalker, and Inigo Montoya...well.... But enough of my rant. If you've never experienced The Phantom I urge you to see the movie, it is wonderful! Beautiful sets, gorgeous costumes, and the singing (I'm not a big fan of musicals) was SUPERB. I'm running out to buy the soundtrack now—with the last of my mad-money. Ah well.

_SNEAK PREIVEW_: Umbridge is really getting on Rose's nerves in _'Nuisances and Decrees.'_ In fact, if someone doesn't hold Rose back she's likely to do something rash. Severus is _'Playing with Fire'_ when he lingers at the warm hearth of Rose. Will he be a gentleman or press his advantage? And, added due to a request from a wonderful reviewer, comes _'Another Malfoy Dinner Party,'_ in which the Snapes are forced into a social situation they would much rather have avoided. But they're going to meet someone...interesting. Oh, and by the way, I'm certainly going to have to finish this fic in a hurry before Book 6 comes out. So don't worry. I'll be done by July. ;-) (Evil laughter.)

**To My Kind Reviewers**:

**Kiss-of-Cuteness**: Thankee for the review. My, my, you're certainly good at guessing what comes next. :-) I'm glad you liked Andrew, and as to the blood thing…you'll have to read the books I mentioned in the previous chapter for a full explanation. Apparently, vampires can even garnish nourishment from a prototype drink, fake blood, which people in Japan invented.

**Evil Duckie of the BlackLagoon**: Severus isn't going to…pin…Rose for a few more chapters. Be patient, it's coming!

**Jack it up Judy**: Glad you enjoyed the last chapter, and I hope you find this one equally as fun. Oh—loved the first chapter to your fic, by the way. You've got me hooked all ready. Do update soon!

**Loraliant Angelisa Snape**: Hiya friend. My, my. Whatever could Rose and Umbridge have to talk about now? Horrid little toady woman.

**Black Sheep Alone**: Glad you're still here. ;-) New Year's Resolutions can be killer. Yes, Snape needs a few nudges, actually, he's going to need a SHOVE to get on the ball and take Rose back into his arms. Humph. Stubborn git.

**Rae Roberts**: Severus Snape…jealous of a vampire? Parish the thought! Mm, okay, maybe he's just a little upset by that incident, as you can tell from this chapter. He'll get his chance to show Rose what's what, though.

**Dianatyne**: Here's your update. ;-)

**Sona Camdyn**: Your last review was cut off. :-(

**Nabenabe:** Have you read my bio? If you did, you all ready know exactly how this story is going to end. It's just a matter of getting it there with everyone in one piece. I'm debating killing Sirius. Maybe. Who knows?

**Artzfreak**: Rose versus Umbridge, ROUND ONE, has just begun. Enjoy.

**Rinny Z**: Andrew attracted to Rose? As much as he is to any other female. Vampires are horny folks. But Andrew does have a very firm friendship with Rose, having worked closely with her in the past. You'll see what they worked on together later.

**Mrsjoryn**: Joanna, thank you so much for the kind review! I'm flattered you've suffered through over-forty chapters of young Snape and are still sticking with me! I do hope you enjoy this chapter and those to come—I, too, am desperate for good reading material until Book 6 comes out.

Thank y'all so much for reviewing!

**_-JB-_**


	6. Nuisances and Decrees

**_Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm_**

_By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large_

**Beta**: Foggy Librarian—the bestest beta ever.

**Notes**: Enjoy. ;-)

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

**_CHAPTER SIX: Nuisances and Decrees_**

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Severus didn't even have time to look up from his cauldron before the door, which slammed open loudly, was slammed shut again. He reached for his wand, his eyes darting to the intruder—

Rose came storming into the empty classroom, where he had been preparing a potion to show his seventh year students, looking angrier than he had seen her in a long time. Her green eyes shot off sparks, her cheeks were flushed, and her jaw was clenched so hard he was sure it would shatter the bone. She raised a clinched fist and lowered it, angrily and harshly, onto the desk he worked on with a _'CRACK.'_

"I'm going to _kill _her!" she growled out between her teeth, her shoulders bunched tensly. He was surprised she wasn't spitting fire.

"Who?" he asked coolly, calmly removing the cauldron to another table where she couldn't disturb it. He turned, crossing his arms and cocking an eyebrow up at her.

She growled again, turning to furiously pace the room. "That _horrid_ piece of _troll_ dung! That noxious little toad of a witch, that—"

"Madame Umbridge," he supplied, the corners of his lips twitching up slightly. He was highly amused by this display of frustration, it was rare Rose allowed her temper to overwhelm her and humorous so long as it wasn't directed towards _him_. His curiosity perked up. "Why tell me about your…plans?"

"Because you won't try to stop me!" she shouted, then whirled and headed for the door, as if to leave as she had entered—without preamble or much decorum.

Severus raised his wand and calmly locked her inside his classroom, with a loud 'click' as the door obeyed his command. Rose sighed, hearing the bolt slip into place, and dropped herself into one of the chairs at the back of the classroom. She looked up at him, morosely. "I wasn't _really_ going to do it, you know. She isn't worth Azkaban."

He only fixed her with a knowing look in his black, bottomless eyes and came forward until he stood by the table she sat at. "What happened?" he asked, his voice soft but commanding. He lowered himself into the chair next to hers but made no other move to touch her, nor did he do more than look silently at her. His face was expressionless, his movements relaxed. This was a calm Severus Snape sitting beside her, not the rash or tempestuous man many of the students and staff were familiar with.

This was _her_ Severus Snape.

The moment Rose took in the way he sat, the way he was looking at her, she felt a wave of nostalgic longing. They had spent many days like this, in the past, discussing potions or healing elixirs, both at school and in their own home when they had married. It was soothing to sit with him so near, not touching, not needing to say much of importance.

Her temper ebbed away, she sighed and her shoulders relaxed. "She's going to inform the Headmaster of my violent tendencies in class and, should he fail to act on the information she departs to him, she will take it up with the Minister and demand she be given the authority to remove me from my position or see to it I am properly 'reigned in.'" Rose put her elbows on the table and dropped her face into her cupped hands. "I told her to shove off and go bother some other professor who might have the time to listen to her ignorant babbling."

Severus snorted, trying to choke down a laugh, but when she looked up she saw there was a humorous tilt to his lips and his black eyes were glittering brightly down at her.

"I wish I could've seen that," he murmured, "it would have been very entertaining to watch her attempt to stare you down."

"I could've crushed her like a bug," Rose agreed dismissively.

_"I wouldn't compromise--I was too busy being proud and stubborn, thinking that I knew better than he did what we needed,"_ whispered Minerva's voice in her mind.

Severus began to stand, to move away from her, and she felt the beginning of tension in the air between them.

Quickly, Rose reached out and took his wrist, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Severus, I'm sorry for how I've behaved."

He looked down at her, blinked once, as if he didn't comprehend her words.

"I mean," she clarified, searching for the words to draw him back to her, "I am sorry for being so difficult and stubborn when...when we've been given this chance to try again. I'm struggling with all of this, Severus, but I need—I _want_ to _try_ and make this work."

Expressionless he lowered himself back into the chair beside her, most who knew him would think he wore a mask of cold, hard iron. But Rose knew him better than anyone, and she caught the glint in his eyes that betrayed his feelings—he was surprised.

"Make...what...work?" he asked slowly, carefully.

"Being married." She swallowed after she said the words, wondering if she was being foolhardy, overly emotional; perhaps he wouldn't care to—

But Severus reached for her hand and lifted it from where it rested in her lap, then he enveloped that hand in both of his own. "I've been thinking about that," he admitted. "This isn't the best time for us to...reunite. Rose, we are in the midst of a war and we are the pawns of others. But if we wait..."

"We may never get the chance," she finished for him, looking to where he held her hand so possessively. Was it still only possession that made him hold her, want her at all? Was it still his admiration for her thoughts, and her _usefulness_ to him that gave him any reason to reach out? "Do you still want me, Severus?" she asked quietly, not looking up, knowing he was a Legilimens and just _might_ use his skill with that magic to discover her own feelings.

His hands let go of hers, only to find her chin and lift her face so that she must look up to him. There in his eyes was an unconcealed passion, dark and full of desire, and a _knowing—_knowing about her. "I need you, Rose Evans," he whispered into the air between them. "But I am imperfect and hardly the sort of wizard you deserve. I'm selfish, greedy, overbearing, cold, cruel...ask any of my students."

She smiled; she put one of her hands to his cheek. "Why do I still love you?" she whispered.

His expression changed, it fell, his cheeks paled and his eyes widened.

Rose then realized her error.

She had spoken the one word neither had ever uttered to the other, one of the most binding words in the magical or muggle worlds, a word that was not meant to be used lightly.

Severus pulled away, stunned. He didn't speak for several long moments.

"I'm sorry," Rose whispered, horrible tears filling her eyes. Inwardly she cursed her weakness and her momentary lapse—Severus didn't use such words, he didn't—

"You love me," he whispered, hoarsely, as he stared at her. "I always wondered—"

She stood and moved away from the table. "I have a class in five minutes," she mumbled. "_Alohomora_." She slipped out the now open door.

He glanced at the hourglass—it was a full half hour before the next class rotation.

She had lied to get away.

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Rose idly fingered the invitation to the Malfoy dinner party and wished she did not have to go. But if Severus didn't show up with her on his arm the Death Eaters could call his usefulness into question—something the Order didn't need.

Laying the sheet on the dressing table across from her bed, Rose picked up the other troubling scrap of parchment—with a gigantic ribbon and red seal of the Ministry emblazed upon it the paper was hard to miss.

**_---By Order of—_**

_The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts_

_All Hogwarts class curriculums, practical and theoretical, not following the strict guidelines approved by the Ministry of Magic and the High Inquisitor, must cease to be taught._

_Permission to teach current or new curriculum may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Dolores Umbridge). Ministry approved syllabi may also be obtained at the time of curriculum approval._

_Any professor or other staff member found to be teaching, or encouraging the students to obtain, inappropriate material will be removed from their positions of honor as Professors to the young of the Wizarding World._

_The above is in accordance with Education Decree #24._

_Signed:_

**_Dolores Umbridge_**

_High Inquisitor_

"Life just gets better and better," Rose groaned, flopping backwards into her bed. She shifted the papers in her hand to a third note delivered to the privacy of her chambers.

_Rose:_

_How are my godson's lessons going?_

_-Snuffles_

"Ask Severus," she muttered. _'I'm not butting in on those. I hate Occlumency and Legilimency. That stuff should be banned.'_

It was five days since she had spoken to Severus, since she had apologized to him. They had not spoken since then and she had done what she could to avoid him—taking meals early or in her room and avoiding corridors where she knew his route to and from certain places was. Of course she couldn't hide from him forever, but she still wasn't sure what he'd say to her revealing words.... Love was almost, to Severus, a forbidden emotion. He did not seem to believe that love existed, having never experienced it himself. He was also strongly against emotions ruling people, as he had said snidely in the past, _"Only fools wear their hearts proudly upon their sleeves."_

A fool—that was exactly what Severus would think Rose was. She was convinced of it.

"Professor Evans?" a disembodied voice echoed through her chamber.

It was Umbridge's voice coming from the floo.

"Yes, Madame?" Rose asked the air, grinding her teeth in an effort to maintain calm.

"You've seen the new decree I gather?" She sounded as if she was gloating.

Rose cursed under her breath. "Yes," she answered shortly, louder.

"Wonderful," continued the sickeningly sweet voice of Dolores Umbridge. "I have all ready prepared the new syllabus for your class, as well as for the others which I've noted to be outside Ministry guidelines. You should come by today and pick it up, so you have the weekend to change your upcoming lesson plans. You'll be pleased to know I've selected a new textbook for you as well—" she sounded especially pleased with herself as she continued, "—since it's too late in the term to expect the children to purchase new books, Lucius Malfoy has graciously donated the funds for classroom sets."

"Lovely," Rose muttered. "I'll be over to your office in a few moments."

"Wonderful!" She was _beaming_ again, that much was obvious in her tone. "Ta-ta, Professor."

"This isn't my day," Rose sighed, pulling herself from her bed slowly. She ducked into the floo and came out again in Umbridge's office. She was back into her own chamber only moments later, a very thickly rolled parchment in hand. But she had not even taken a further step into her sitting room/bedroom before she saw someone occupying the chair in front of her hearth.

Sitting casually in her chair, as if he belonged exactly there, and looking impassively up at her was Severus Snape. He was without his robes, wearing black slacks and a high-collared button-up shirt that reminded her of a vicar. His shoulder-length hair was hanging curtain-like around him, partially concealing his glittering black eyes. His elbows rested on the arms of the plush chair and his chin rested on one fist as he stared at her.

"Severus," she whispered by way of greeting. Her shoulders tensed. "What're you doing here?"

One imperious black eyebrow raised, his lips twitched slightly as if he might smile. "Making certain you're alive. I need an escort for this weekend, after all, and I haven't seen you...." He shrugged and gestured with a hand towards the parchment she held. "What's that? You're clutching at it as if you're strangling it."

"Oh." She relaxed her hold on the syllabus, wishing it was Umbridge's throat. "Just something Umbridge gave me...the new syllabus." She stepped forward and held it out to him with one hand. "I haven't looked at it yet, but—"

He reached forward—seizing her wrist rather than the parchment and pulling her closer before she had time to protest. Rose landed in his lap with wide eyes and cheeks blushing furiously.

He deftly plucked the parchment from her hand and began to unroll it. Rose sat stiffly, exactly where he'd put her. "So," he said, his eyes scanning the parchment, "you're not allowed to let the students practice magic any more."

"I'm not allowed to _what_?!" She forgot her awkward seat in her outrage and took the parchment into her own hands. "Why, that _fat_ toad! 'No wand waving or spell casting of any kind?!' Who does she think she is? How dare she?! I've got O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. students—advanced classes and first years who can't even identify pixies or brownies yet! No spells? No practice?" Her tirade left her cheeks redder than before and her green eyes snapping. "You should've let me kill her. I'm going to—"

His hand covered her mouth and his free arm came around her to stop her wildly gesturing hands. "You're not going to do anything. You're all ready on probation, and if you're not careful you'll be sacked. Rose, the students need a competent teacher." He removed his hand and she stared at him with a measure of surprise. "You can teach them a lot without wands, you know."

Rose moaned and dropped her head against his chest. "I _loathe_ that woman. Is she even a woman? I think she's a troll's offspring." She was tightly wound and it was a mark of her anger that she forgot what was going on and used her husband for a pillow against her anger. The familiar feeling of resting against him began to soothe her, Rose's eyes drifted closed, she sighed.

Severus hesitated briefly and then laid the parchment on the floor. He put both arms around her and pulled her closer, resting his cheek against the top of her head. "Other than Umbridge, how are things?"

She chuckled into his shirt. "Are you making small talk?" Rose shifted in his lap, making herself more comfortable. "Everything's okay, I guess. I never thought I'd be teaching, Severus; this isn't how I wanted my life to be. I wanted—"

"To be a healer," he supplied, nodding. "I know...I remember." Now he chuckled and she felt the low vibrations from his chest running through her. "I just wanted to be 'great.' Whatever that means. But..." he shrugged, "teaching isn't horrible. I can tolerate it most of the time."

"Really," Rose murmured, surprised. She pushed away from his chest to look up at him. The emerald gaze she sent into his black eyes was surprised yet warm. "You _like _teaching, don't you?"

He stared at her impassively for a moment, then one corner of his mouth turned upwards in a half-smile. "I suppose I do." He reached a hand up to tuck one of the errant curls escaping from her bun behind her ear.

Rose froze. No one had touched her like that in a long time.

Cupping her chin in his hand, he carefully ran his thumb across her cheek. His black eyes were bottomless, drawing her into them, glittering with a quiet promise. "Did you mean what you said to me in the dungeons? Did you—?" he cut himself off, frowning, suddenly unsure of himself.

"Did I mean what?" she asked, looking down to where her hands rested in her lap.

He ran a hand through his hair, sighed. "It doesn't matter," he decided at last. "Are you coming with me Sunday?" he asked, easily changing the subject.

"Of course." Rose relaxed, relieved he dropped the awkward matter so easily. "Dress is formal, right?"

"Of course, it's a Malfoy function." He gave her a mildly curious look. "Do you have anything for the occasion? If not, I would be more than happy to—"

"Don't worry about me," she interrupted quickly, reaching up to touch his cheek with the tips of her fingers as she noticed something odd. "You've got a bruise, Severus."

"It's old," he murmured; his eyes had that deep, intense look in them she knew so well.

Her eyes were now taking in other things she hadn't noticed before. "You've got little cuts all over your hands, too." She pushed up one of his sleeves to find scratches and further bruises. "Severus! What've you been doing?" Rose looked up at him, her expression plainly showing worry. "Have you even had these treated?"

Narrowing his eyes he grumbled, "I haven't—"

"The time, I know." She rolled her eyes but then fixed him with a glare. "You've obviously got the time to come and bother me, so while you're doing that I'll grab some healing salve and take care of you...erm, your wounds." Rose removed herself from his lap and disappeared into the bathroom.

* * *

**_SNEAK PREVIEW_**: Severus is _'Playing with Fire'_ when he lingers at the warm hearth of Rose. Will he be a gentleman or press his advantage? And, added due to a request from a wonderful reviewer, comes _'Another Malfoy Dinner Party,'_ in which the Snapes are forced into a social situation they would much rather have avoided. But they're going to meet someone...interesting. And then comes _Harry's Outburst_, smack dab in the middle of Rose's fifth year defense class when she informs them there will be no more 'wand waving' in class.

**To My Kind Reviewers:**

**To all**: For some reason I wasn't getting my 'review alerts' when you guys dropped me a note about my last chapter. I was feeling so unloved and unwanted! I thought everyone had, for some strange reason, abandoned my story! But now…now I know you still love me! :'-)

**Evil Duckie of the BlackLagoon**: The Malfoys are notorious for being wealthy snobs, and so their parties will most certainly reflect that. This chapter wasn't that exciting, but hopefully it will serve to get Severus moving in the right direction….

**Kiss-of-cuteness**: I LOVE my PotO soundtrack! I bought the version you recommended, and you're right! It's wonderful. I am now watching the Entertainment section in my paper so I'll know right away if the Broadway show comes around here. Thank you for reviewing!

**Lydia**: Dahling, so glad to have you back. I hope you enjoyed your time away, and I'm thrilled you're still finding my fic worth the read. Do respond to my last correspondence soon. Thankee.

**Rae Roberts**: Sirius is NOT evil. I actually like the bloke a lot. And Severus is NOT a saint—as a friend of mine just said, I wouldn't want to run into him in a dark alley! But there is more to people than black-or-white, and who are we to judge wrong from right? These wizards are just people, like me and you. Good days and bad days. :-) Don't worry about Sirius, I'll take care of him.

**Mistressofhorses**: Nice to have you along for the ride! Madame, you make me blush with your compliments. I have a ton of fun stuff ahead, and I do hope you continue to review and let me know what you think.

**Allison**: I must admit to you that Minerva inspired how I would write Rose's handling of Umbridge last chapter. Rose is a lot like Minerva—maybe a little darker in personality, but the Scotswoman has a soft spot for Lily's baby sister for a reason. Guess what? I'm turning over a Phantom Phic in my mind. Sshhh…it's a secret.

**Black Sheep Alone**: I LOVE the Crystal Maiden's work! I've read all her stuff—I wish she'd update more often and Crash is certainly one of my favorites. As to the Anakin thing, I'm not at all attracted to his character portrayal in Episode II and he annoyed me immensely in Episode I. Blah. I meant Anakin Skywalker the man behind the mask of Darth Vader. Tortured soul…I love him so. I thought of another to add to my list—the Count of Monte Cristo. Tsk. See you next chapter. ;-)

**Heather**: Of course your bias towards your artwork! But I am highly curious and I would love to see what you've done. Feel free to email me at any time. :-) I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I'm very pleased that I am manipulating your emotions as well. BWHAHA!

**Loraliant**** Angelisa Snape**: Hehe. I didn't let anyone even PEEK at Rose and Umbridge interacting, y'all only got the aftermath—this time. But I do think you captured Rose well in your review—all calm outwardly, raising her eyebrow and sneering in a way which would make Severus proud. But she did have a problem controlling herself AFTER Umbridge was out of harm's way. Tsk. It's why she needs Severus—he's a great person to vent to. Or so I would think.

Hope I've got you all on the edge of your chairs, with your noses pressed to the screen as you wait for an update! That is, after all, why I write!

Love,

**_-JB-_**


	7. Playing with Fire

**_Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm_**

_By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large_

**Beta**: Thanks go to Foggy Librarian—who is over-worked and very under-paid.

**Notes**: Been reading this marvelous PotO Phic (as they call them, weird how each genre has its own slang terms) in which the author updates once or twice a day. I wish I was that inspired! She's also got over eight hundred reviews! Look for her under the name Mandy the O if you're interested.

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

**_CHAPTER SEVEN: Playing with Fire_**

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Severus listened to Rose rummage around among the bottles in her bathroom and he stood—wishing to leave before she could coerce the kindness of caring for his wounds upon him. But...he found himself not _really_ wanting to leave. Holding her in his arms had been, for those few minutes, relaxing and soothing in a way nothing had been for over a decade.

The witch returned from the bathroom with a determined look—she knew what she was up against. "Take off your shirt, Severus, and sit on the ottoman." She gestured to the footstool in front of her favorite chair.

"This isn't—"

"Necessary. I know," she interrupted, fixing him with her own determined glare. "Don't make me jinx you into submissiveness, Severus—you know I will if I have to."

She was right; he knew very well she would do so. He grunted, a sound of half-disgust and half-agreement. Severus unbuttoned his black jacket, then the black shirt underneath. He cast them both off despondently over the back of her chair. There was a chain around his neck, but he had that off and shoved into the pockets of his slacks before she could see more than a glimpse of silver.

Rose gasped, taking in what she could see with a sudden pang of sympathy. She suddenly wished she hadn't been avoiding him, and had noticed the bruises and scrapes on his body before.

Severus was pale-skinned, which made the dark bruising and scratches all over him stand out all the more. "Oh, Severus," she whispered, wincing as she came closer. She knew better than to ask what had happened.

Moodily, he sat on the ottoman, not looking at her expression. "Get on with it," he growled, clenching his jaw.

The woman swallowed the momentary irritation his coldness caused, then set her shoulders. She opened the jar of salve and knelt behind him. "It's going to sting the scratches," she whispered then caught herself and said more firmly, "It's something I developed with Andrew Mankiller's help. As you know, the saliva of a vampire has healing properties."

His entire body jolted when she put the first of the salve on a red welt which ran from shoulder to shoulder. "Cold," he muttered by way of excuse, though his breath hissed from between his teeth because of pain.

Rose blew, gently, along the inflamed skin and the burn she knew she was causing. The effect was immediate—he relaxed, though the muscles in his shoulders and back remained tense. It was a slow process—she would put a layer of the salve on, speaking of the healing properties of the medicine, then blow gently over the area to help stem away the pain.

From his back she went to his arms, then to his chest where the scratches were denser and longer—he had been attacked much more heavily there but by what she dared not ask. This took even more time, and she spoke less as she tried to keep the salve from hurting him further.

Severus, for his part, had enjoyed listening to the sound of her voice despite the pain—the feel of her breath against his skin was almost unbearable, however, as were the almost caressing touches of her gentle hands. He could feel his muscles knotting from tension and other parts of his body reacted to her proximity as well. Did she have to be so infuriatingly _gentle?_

Sixteen years was a long time to go without.

Meanwhile, Rose had noticed some of the scratches went below the waistband of his pants. She closed the salve jar and held it out to him, concern etched onto her face as she looked up. "Take this with you, Severus, you're going to need more." More of her hair had escaped from her bun, allowing soft auburn curls to frame her delicate featured face. Her cheeks were flushed, giving her the color she was often times without, and her eyes reflected the warmth of the dancing flames in the hearth.

Reigning in his sudden impulse to take her into his arms—an impulse which momentarily alarmed him—Severus cleared his throat before speaking softly. "Thank you." But he did not hasten to depart. Instead he slowly moved to put his shirt on, though he left it loose and unbuttoned. "Now sit on the stool."

She looked as if she might protest, but she finally gave in with a little sigh. Once she was seated, Severus positioned himself on the chair behind her. "You have a headache," he noted by way of explanation.

"How did you know?"

His hands came to her shoulders—his long fingers began to gently massage her shoulders. "You wrinkle your nose when you head hurts," he answered quietly. "You wince a little."

"Oh." Beneath his hands her stress began to fade away, her headache abated.

He undid her hair, taking out the three magicked pins which had held all else in place. The auburn hair tumbled over her shoulders and down her back, lit to a coppery color when the firelight caught certain strands. He held his breath and then let it out quietly as he summoned her hairbrush. "_Accio_brush."

Rose loved the feel of his hands, and the gentle strokes of the brush soothed her. All the tension and the pain in her body slowly, slowly seeped away under his gentle ministrations. No doubt he was paying such attention to her well-being to repay her own concern for his. Severus wasn't one who liked debts, of any kind. Her eyelids became heavy, she leaned her cheek against his knee and sighed happily, content for the moment.

After a time she began to drift into the realm of the unconscious mind—dreams crept upon her and were on the verge of drawing her into their depths when Rose felt her body lifted into the air. She came back to herself drowsily, hardly aware of what went on around her.

Severus's arms held her, carrying her carefully to her bed on the other side of the room. She felt her head lowered onto the pillow, her bed was soft beneath her. The blankets were pulled up and the body of her husband began to draw away.

"No," she murmured, reaching out and catching hold of his sleeve. "Stay with me...please, Severus."

He hesitated—his mind rebelling against the urge to slip into her bed, to the warmth of being so close to her. Other parts of him tempting him further, arguing it could not hurt…just for one night….

"Severus," she whispered again, her physical hold on him loosening even though her unknown, emotional hold was taking a firm grip.

The wizard sighed and stepped out of his shoes. He slid beneath her blankets and did not need to wait a moment before she moved closer, snuggling up to his warmth. He put his arms around her, drawing her closer, inhaling the scent of rainstorms from her skin and hair. She laid her cheek against his chest, bare beneath his unbuttoned shirt, and she sighed as her conscious mind departed amidst comfort and warmth.

The curve of her body against his, soft and sensuous, made his senses reel; the soft sounds of her breath, the curve of her breasts against his side, and her scent surrounding him filled Severus with an intense longing, a heavy need—but he contented himself with holding her this night...with having her warmth. He also had the knowledge that she was _still_ his, and for the time being it was enough.

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Severus awoke with a start in a dark room he did not recognize, sitting bolt upright with his blood pounding loudly in his ears. He caught his breath, stilling his body to try and make sense of his surroundings. He was covered in a cold sweat—

"Severus?" a soft, sleepy voice murmured beneath him from a pillow. "Something wrong?"

He remembered who she was in a rush of mental scrambling, but not how she had come to be there; his body did not relax. Her hand was on his arm, the physical contact allowed his frantic mind to slow and his erratic heartbeat to calm. "Rose?" he whispered, his voice hoarse after hours of sleep. Or did he still sleep? Why was she here?

"I think you had a nightmare." He felt her sit up beside him, her hand against his cheek and then her fingers gently running through his hair. "You cried out in your sleep and sat up." Her other hand went to rest on his bare chest. "You're sweating, too."

Shuddering once, he fell back onto her pillows, pulling her against him as a drowning man might pull his rescuer into the depths of deadly waters. "I don't remember a nightmare," he whispered, holding her close. "I remember terror." He also remembered where he was completely now—her room, her bed.

Rose began to murmur soothing, nonsense words against his neck as her hand stroked his hair gently. "You're safe, Severus," she said. "You're with me. You're safe."

Oddly enough these words _were_ a comfort to him. He relaxed at last, the tension left him. "It's warm in here," he muttered quietly, sounding distracted. "I sleep in the dungeons where it's cooler."

"You're hot-natured," she said, a smile in her tone. "But you're fully dressed, Severus." She chuckled. "As am I. It _is_ uncomfortable."

Rose moved away from him, sitting up, undoing the buttons of her blouse and tossing it away, then her floor-length black skirt was more awkwardly removed. His shirt and socks ended up on the floor of her bedroom as well and then he collapsed once more onto her pillows with a sigh of relief. The witch, as she curled up again at his side, was in naught but a camisole and slip.

"Good thing tomorrow's Saturday," Severus muttered. He wondered if he would ever get to sleep again with her beside him...so close...so easily within reach.

Rose didn't comment, she merely snuggled closer and sighed. "Do you always have nightmares?"

"Not always," he answered softly. Slow, sweet torture was perhaps the worst kind. The feel of her skin, the brush of her breast as she breathed in and out…close to him and yet he could not yet touch her as a husband had every right to touch a wife. There was a block there, one of his own devising, which would not allow it.

"Oh." She yawned. "Severus, may I tell you something personal?"

There was a brief pause.

"Go ahead," he allowed at last.

Rose reached up and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. "You're a _very_ attractive man; you've stayed in excellent shape." One of her hands fell to gently trace a circle on his chest, her smooth fingertips carefully stroking his skin...straying a little too close to his sides.

There was a low rumble in his chest as he suppressed a laugh—she abruptly stopped, though she rested her fingers nearer his ribs...a light threat. "Thank you." He kissed the top of her forehead and sighed. "I'm very much awake now." His confession sounded distracted, he was even then trying to refocus his thoughts away from her warm, soft body, while trying to avoid twitching away from her tormenting fingers.

"Complaining?" she nearly purred as one of her fingers came up to gently trace his jaw. "Tomorrow _is_ Saturday...we needn't be up early."

He shifted slightly, turning onto his side to look through the darkness at her. "That sounded like a proposition." His body rebelled at what his mind was thinking—it would be so easy to give into her at that moment.

"Did it?" Rose asked, her voice low and quiet. "Would you like it to be?"

Severus shuddered as her words and tone seeped into him, stirring his blood. His fingers lightly stroked her bare shoulder down to her wrist. "I want nothing more," he murmured, "at this moment than I want _you. _But," he interrupted himself as his body cried out its need, "I won't do anything about that until we're both honestly ready for a commitment. I don't want this to be meaningless, Rose." He sighed, his warm breath tickling her cheeks and forehead. "I shouldn't even be here."

"Don't leave me," she murmured, moving closer, a quiet desperation in her voice. It was as if she was afraid of being over-heard. "Severus, I've been so lonely since I left. I'm tired of being alone. Just—just stay with me tonight. Please?"

He pressed his lips briefly to her forehead, murmuring his words against her skin. "You're a temptation, Rose."

"So are you," she countered, touching his cheek with her fingertips. "Severus I want to tell you something important. There's never been anyone—" her voice had a hitch to it, she had to swallow back a nameless emotion before continuing. "You're still the only man I ever—"

"Really?" He chuckled, then pulled her to him in a close embrace. He stilled his physical needs with that knowledge…there had been _no one else_ for Rose…just him. "No one else Dark enough for you?" She didn't hear the catch in his own voice, the hesitation.

She groaned. "Fine. Laugh at me." Rose began to pull away, but he held her fast.

"Rose, Rose. I'm not laughing at you," he soothed, his voice deeper, silkier. "But I wish I knew what I did to receive such devotion. I'm not as deserving of it as you are. We _must_ go slowly."

"I know. Don't leave me tonight, Severus."

"Not so long as I have the power to stay," he returned. "Now rest, witch."

"Yes, Severus."

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Severus awoke to the sound of the shower running. He smiled to himself, listening to the water and the faint sounds of Rose humming. A familiar, sweet memory crept into his mind.

_Rose was in the shower, humming to herself, after their first night together. He came into the bathroom quietly, having just awoken to find himself alone in bed. He had found his bride easily, the sound of rushing water and the steam floating through the bathroom door was evidence enough of where she was and what she was about. _

_Without preamble he slipped into the shower, earning a small yelp of surprise from the young woman within._

_"What're you doing?" she asked, her beautiful green eyes wide with shock. She stepped back, further into the water as if she wished it to cover her, crossing her arms defensivly over her chest. "**Severus!**"_

_He merely stepped closer, under the cascade of water with her, wrapping his arms around her slick, bare skin. "Yes, Rose?" Her dark auburn hair clung to her, smelling of soap and sticking to her shoulders and breasts in ringlets._

_"I'm **naked**," she breathed, her cheeks a delicious shade of red._

_"And wet," he added, leaning his head down, sliding his arms around her...._

Severus snapped himself out of his thoughts when he heard the water shut off. Sorely in need of his own shower now—a _cold_ shower—he gathered his discarded clothes and was out the floo in moments.

Once in his own dark, cool chambers Severus was able to get his mind back into focus. He was in the icy shower quickly, and out again in little time. He dressed in his usual ensemble—but only after taking care to put Rose's healing salve over the sounds on his chest—those on his arms were mostly gone and from the feel of things his back was nearly whole again as well. "Vampire saliva," he murmured to himself speculatively. "Most interesting."

He found his discarded pants from the night before and withdrew from a pocket the silver chain he always wore around his neck—her wedding ring, the beautiful black diamond set in a Mithril dragon's jaws. He put the ring briefly to his lips—a gesture and ritual which had become a habit—then let it lay beneath his clothing against the bare skin of his chest.

By the time Severus made it to the Great Hall, Rose was all ready seated and paging through the _Daily Prophet_, scowling all the way through it. She looked up from the article she was reading to shoot him a warm smile before turning her attention back to her orange juice and paper.

Severus took his customary seat beside her, pressing his lips together to keep from smiling back at her—it wouldn't help his image any to do so. To be seen returning any display of friendship with the woman who was still an unknown player in the game of war could be courting disaster. She folded her paper with a sigh and said something about tabloids and the idiocy of the press to Charlie Weasley who laughed and made a witty remark in return.

As if it was perfectly normal, she then reached forward to rest her hand against Severu's arm—only to gain his attention, not to keep it there. Still, it was dangerous. He jerked the appendage out of her grasp and fixed her with a cool, calculated stare. She did not seem surprised by his actions; instead she offered him a wan smile.

She knew how to play the game.

"Good morning, Professor Snape," she said lightly.

He merely sneered.

* * *

**_SNEAK PREVIEW_**: Coming soon, to a computer very near you! _Another Malfoy Dinner Party _has Rose and Severus stuck in a social situation they would much rather get out of, but when a Death Eater invites you over to his place it's not a good idea to say 'no.' Of course, things don't improve any when a certain Gryffindor lands himself into a load of trouble with _Harry's Outburst_. But it's time for a serious talk with her nephew, and _It's a Jolly Holiday with Rose_ when the two finally get some time together. 

**To My Reviewers**:

**Mione1**: Greetings, exalted reviewer! Many thanks for dropping your encouragement! It's so nice to be appreciated!

**Mistressofhorses**: Oh, but I WANT criticism! I need a pin-prick now and then so that I can improve myself. Do me a favor—look for something wrong before next reviewing and tell me what a horrible writer I am. :-D I never get any good flames, and I've got all these marshmallows to toast….

**Evil Duckie of the BlackLagoon**: Rose and Severus are becoming VERY close again. Poor Snape, though…stuck playing a gentleman.

**Allison**: Thankee for the review, dear.

**Lydia**: Loved your email—Semester just started up again. Will respond soon. I'm still very stuck on that one problem I mentioned to you. Durn it.

**Kiss-of-Cuteness**: The dreaded L-word will arise again, and soon. As will other dreaded creatures…like the Malfoys and Umbridge.

**Black Sheep Alone**: Y'know, I have a major problem with certain fics. Mainly the ones where Severus throws all caution to the wind and jumps in any OC's bed within only a few chapters. PLEASE, there is more to romance than the bedroom. I'm trying to get that across. How am I doing?

**Rae Roberts**: Thanks. ;-)

**Heather**: Did Smeagol take over your body? Or perhaps a house-elf. "We loves it." Thank you so much! I'm so glad you're enjoying yourself with this fic and I hope this chapter makes you very frustrated—or at least increasingly curious.

**Loraliant**** Angelisa Snape**: This chapter was a bit more from Severus's POV. I wanted us to take a peek at his side of the torture I'm putting these two through.

**Maya)-sleepy**: Ugh, wasn't it horrible when FF.N was down the other day? I was going to update then, but by the time it was finally back up I was too distracted with other things. I hope you get to read this one without unnecessary delays.

**LadyLuck321**: Haven't ever heard from you before. :-) Hope to hear from you again.

**Jack it up Judy**: Thank you! I went and checked out your story again. I'm horrendously curious about it—whatever will happen next?

_See y'all next chapter!_

**_-JB-_**


	8. Another Malfoy Dinner Party

**_Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm_**

_By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large_

**Beta**: Foggy Librarian…but I didn't give her time to go over this one. The mistakes are all mine.

**Notes**: Guess what? I'm over a very nasty writer's block and to celebrate I updated!

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

**_CHAPTER EIGHT: Another Malfoy Dinner Party_**

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Sunday evening found Severus Snape in the dungeons, checking the progress of several long-term potions his sixth and seventh years had brewing or setting out over the weekend. Some were without hope, but others were progressing fairly well. The Weasley seventh years had been given permission to do something _experimental_ as well as their assignment—Severus was faintly amused by their potion which called for a muggle substance called gelatin—something to do with cow's hooves. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what they were creating, but if the rumors reaching him of their business ventures were true, Argus Filch—the disgusting squib—would be in for it.

The door to the 'Advanced' Potion's Room—a hidden door from behind the bookcase in the regular classroom granted access—creaked open softly and he looked up to see Rose standing there, wrapped in a black cloak from chin to toe. "I'm ready," she declared with the slightest of smiles.

Rose hated the Malfoys, and she had always despised their social gatherings.

"Are you?" The wizard stepped away from the vivid pink Weasley potion and made a show of looking her up and down. "What are you hiding under you cloak? Mad-Eye Moody?"

"Hardly," she said with a sniff. Then she raised her hands to undo the clasp at her throat, two serpents entwined, and slid the over-clothing off.

Severus's eyebrows shot up, but as quickly his eyes again narrowed to slits as he admired her. "Well."

Rose was in a gown that looked greatly like something an Arthurian lady might wear, a dress with a tight bodice, and smooth, supple fabric of deep red enveloping her small form. Her shoulders were bared by a very wide neck, her sleeves were long and flared from the elbow down with embroidery at the wrists—silver vines of thorns also danced from her waist down to her hem and up again to a slit which stopped mid-way up her thigh. Her smooth, slightly pale, legs were glimpsed only slightly from behind the slit, though a hint of a black-lace slip showed well.

Her hair was pulled mostly up into a small silver hoop which rested on the crown of her head, but many ringlets spilled down to brush her neck, curl around her ears, and caress the bare skin of her shoulders.

Her eyes were shadowed in dusty silver, her lips as dark a red as her gown. She wore only one piece of jewelry—a simple silver chain with a carved pendent baring the Slytherin coat of arms—to remind the Malfoys and their guests she was not 'beneath' them on that account.

"Well?" Rose echoed him, smirking slightly. She straightened her shoulders with some pride and casually took in his apparel—black dress robes, proper and simple as always, with a high black collar and little else to make him stand out. They contrasted each other nicely.

"Perhaps," he said softly, almost hissing the words, "I should reconsider the dinner invitation and dine in instead." His eyes swept over her again, his lips curved up into a small, self-satisfied smile. "You look as I used to imagine Morgan le Fey might." He moved closer, there was but a narrow student table between them. "Beautiful, tempting, and dangerous."

Rose shivered as his voice washed over her, bathing her in warmth that was almost uncomfortable. She pulled her cloak back on but smiled impishly as she did. "That may be the highest compliment you've ever paid me, Severus. Merlin, you've learned how to twist words to your benefit."

He shrugged, still smiling that soft, predatory smile at her. "Shall we go?"

They arrived at Malfoy manner not long after, with little needing to be said between them. Severus had received instruction from Albus Dumbledore to pass on to Rose— "Make it obvious Severus Snape holds your interest, but do not commit to the Death Eaters or to me in any word or action," Albus had said. "You must be the mystery weapon until we know what Voldemort is after and _why_ Harry is having his strange dreams. Severus must be entrusted to the inner circle of the Death Eaters once more, and you may be able to get him there."

Rose had given up trying to convince Dumbledore to tell Harry about the prophecy and with Sirius dead-set against it as well....

A house elf answered the door as they arrived, wearing a tea-cozy with an embroidered 'M' in black lettering on a silver backing. His long, pointed ears were pierced each with a silver hoop, and he bowed elegantly to them before silently leading the way inside. He took their cloaks, scraping and bowing more, and another house elf in a pillowcase led them further into the house, to the large receiving room.

Narcissa Malfoy was one of the most acclaimed hostesses in the wizarding world, and had been interviewed several times by _'Which Witch_,' and _'Witch Weekly'_ to share her party secrets with the world. She was beautiful, with the classic dark looks of the Black family, and charming. She was also fabulously wealthy, even without her husband's fortune.

Such was the way, with most old pureblood families. Only a few had, in recent generations, degenerated to the point of near poverty. Among such families were the Snapes, the Weasleys, the Pinkertons, and the Flanners.

As was appropriate for a hostess, Narcissa stood near the entry to the receiving room, where trays of drinks and 'h'our de voirs' were being served by floating house elves until dinner was made ready.

Rose, upon entering the familiar room, shuddered and drew closer to Severus. He tucked her arm through his and offered a smile to the nearest wizard. "Steady, Rose," he murmured.

Scott Avery smiled thinly at them in return, and then turned again to continue his conversation with Gilbert Goyle, father of the young Gregory Goyle. Harold Crabbe was there as well, drinking heavily. Arthur Jugson was chatting with a smug Walden MacNair. Nott, Mulciber, and their wives were laughing and sitting on the couches arranged in one corner of the room. Lucius Malfoy was with an elegantly dressed witch, near the great windows at the far wall, probably talking politics.

Those were the few in the room Rose recognized from days long past, those who were from the original Death Eater crowd. There were others there, of course, some Rose recognized from school and others she knew because of their positions at the Ministry. Strangely enough, Rose and Severus were the only Hogwarts professors who were in attendance.

Narcissa spotted them and excused herself from a conversation with a very elderly, elaborately dressed witch and approached them with a charming smile. "Professor Snape, we're delighted you could join us! And Rose, it's marvelous to see you again." She took Rose's free hand in her own, clasping it as if they were very old friends—which they were not.

"My dear Rose, we all thought you had perished years ago—during an attack from a Dark witch was what the papers reported. Yet I see your demise was greatly falsified. Have the authorities been very rude about your disappearance?" she asked, pretending to be mildly curious. Of course, it was her own sister who had supposedly murdered Rose all those years ago…Bellatrix Lestrange. The Malfoys never spoke of her by name anymore. There was a suspicious gleam in her eye, however, as she carefully took in Rose's appearance.

"Albus Dumbledore has been kind enough to help me file a report with the Ministry which excuses my absence from, shall we say, the world of the living," Rose replied smoothly, her own cool smile in place. "It is good to be back."

"I should think so. Being 'dead' would be a great damper on any sort of social life." Narcissa turned her smile to Severus. "It is wonderful to see you in each other's company again. Is the old romance being rekindled?"

Severus stood straighter and cocked one eyebrow at the social-elitess, and he looked on the verge of saying something biting before he recalled himself and responded, "We shall see, Madame."

"Indeed." She turned to see a new guest entering. "I hope you enjoy this evening, Professor, Rose...excuse me." Narcissa stepped away.

"I don't like her," Rose whispered, shooting an annoyed glance after the woman. "Not at all."

"Neither do I," Severus answered. "Here comes another one."

Melinda Goyle, wife of Gilbert Goyle and mother to Gregory Goyle, was upon them in an instant, in raptures over Rose's dress and demanding to know 'everything' about the couple and whether or not they were, in fact, a couple.

They were greeted politely by most of the Death Eaters, though Lucius Malfoy remained distant.

"Have you displeased him?" Rose asked quietly at one point, glancing in the direction of the tall, elegant Malfoy. "I thought he liked you."

"He plays mind games," Severus murmured as he accepted a glass of something amber-colored from a house elf. "We will be able to tell where I am in his favor by where we're placed at the dinner table. Since you were not invited, but are my guest, we can at least count on being seated together."

"I hated her 'mixers' most because she always had us seated so far from each other," Rose said, nodding towards Narcissa. "She has the strangest party ideas sometimes."

"She doesn't do mixers much any more," Severus commented, sipping at his drink.

Rose cast him a frown. "Aren't you worried about keeping a clear head tonight?" Truthfully, she could not remember Severus ever drinking more than an occasional glass of wine with dinner; he was not one who liked to be 'polluted' with alcohol.

He shrugged, but put the glass down on a tray when the next elf floated by.

"You're nervous," Rose noted, pulling him to the side of the room, near a large book case. "Is something wrong?"

Severus glanced casually around, making certain no one was within ear-shot, then bent to say quietly, "I don't like the way people are looking at you."

Rose rolled her eyes. "I've been _'dead'_ for the past fifteen years, if I were them I'd be casting suspicious glances too."

"It's not just that...." He turned his interest to the book shelf, silently reading a few titles before continuing, "It's what you're wearing."

"What I'm...?" Rose shook her head, but smiled. "Severus, that's silly, I—"

A gong sounded from the doorway leading to the dining room. "Dinner is served!" a sprightly elf called in a high-pitched, squeaky voice.

"Ah, at last," Severus murmured, relaxing somewhat. He took her arm and fell in with the others to enter the dining room.

Place cards on the long, dark-wood table were on ivory paper and the names were written in an elegant silver print. Rose spotted Severus's name, and her own, quickly. "Near the head of the table," she murmured appreciatively. "You haven't fallen out of his good graces then."

Severus did not comment as he assisted her with her chair. The first course was served; the wizards and witches began chatting politely about menial things, touching lightly on politics, hiding behind facades of responsible members of society. Some of them were not pledged to the Dark, but leaned in that direction.

Rose found it was becoming harder and harder to tell who was loyal to whom.

To Rose's immediate left was her husband, and to her right was Gilbert Goyle and his wife. Melinda was chattering on to anyone within hearing range about the latest Ministry gossip. She was not as much of a social queen as Narcissa, but she certainly enjoyed getting 'the scoop' on anyone and everyone who was worth knowing. She wrote a gossip column for _Witch Weekly_ under a pen name, always picking up on the biggest scandals and most embarrassing stories. Her latest column had examined a 'prominent pure blood family falling quickly from favor.' She was, as most who read the paper knew, making remarks about the Weasleys.

It was hard to contain her own responses to the flow of the conversation on her right side, so Rose tended to focus more on what those around her husband were saying. Ruben Fahle, a man better looking than Lucius Malfoy and perhaps ten years younger, was across from Severus and dominating the conversation. He was talking about the ineptness of Minister Fudge, and the irritating little Junior Assistant Fudge employed. "All you ever read in the papers now," Fahle was saying, "is how inept Albus Dumbledore is and how insane Harry Potter is. Surely there must be something going on in the world far more interesting than that. Even if the Headmaster of Hogwarts is inept-" Several nodded that they believed this, "—must we really be told about it every morning in the papers? I believe it's obvious that Fudge's latest political campaign is nothing more than a campaign against the only living wizard who could possibly challenge his power and authority. Everyone knows that Dumbledore's taken the Boy Who Lived under his wing, so to further discredit the wizard they make his trusted ward look like a simpleton."

"Perhaps Dumbledore's failures are being pointed out, "Lucius Malfoy interjected, "because he truly needs to be removed from his position of power. I know that if I did not have other professors, more competent professors, teaching at Hogwarts I would pull my son from there immediately. He often writes to his mother about Harry Potter's simpleness in classes and Albus Dumbledore's leniency towards the boy. Everyone touts that boy's scar as something wonderful and to be admired—but perhaps it is only evidence of a mental condition he may have received the night his parents were killed. The boy appears to be highly unstable."

"I disagree," Rose said coolly, her green eyes lighting upon Lucius Malfoy. All eyes on that end of the table immediately turned to her, fascinated. Severus's hand momentarily reached under the table and brushed against her leg—cautioning her.

"Really, Professor...Evans again, isn't it?" Lucius smiled. "You have been missing from our ranks—" the implication was not lost on Rose, "—for many years. Perhaps you could give us your fresh, unbiased opinion of the goings on at Hogwarts."

"They're hardly unbiased," Rose returned with her most charming smile, though she made sure to flash as many teeth as she could. Let them decide whether or not she was hostile towards the topic. "As many of you have probably guessed, it was only through the generosity of Albus Dumbledore that I was able to reenter Britain without having to do a lot of explaining to the authorities, and Harry Potter is my nephew. But even with those marks against me," she said dismissively, "I must confess that Harry Potter is among the quickest of my students to grasp key concepts, and his grades are excellent in my class. As for Albus Dumbledore...he is an eccentric fellow but entirely harmless when it comes to bringing up this new generation of witches and wizards. We don't need to worry about him influencing them much." Rose shrugged. "But as you've said, Lucius, I haven't been around long enough to know all the facts of the matter."

Ruben Fahle was watching her with a pleased little smile, his eyes appraising her carefully. "My dear professor, adding a disclaimer onto such boldly expressed opinions does not help you to win an argument. Had not you done so I would say you roundly countered Lucius. But you're not the only Hogwarts professor with us tonight. I believe your former husband has an even loftier perch at that school than you do." Rose did not bother to correct his assumption that she and Severus were no longer married, but she did raise her eyebrows with some amusement as Fahle turned expectant eyes towards Severus.

"Yes," Scott Avery chimed in, smiling wickedly, "Tell us, Severus, what you think of what's happening at the school."

Severus did not even alter his expression—that of being phenomenally bored with the topic—as he replied, "As far as the Potter boy goes, I cannot vouch for his soundness of mind. His grades in potions are abysmal; he is actually taking remedial lessons during the evenings at the insistence of the Headmaster. The Headmaster, on the other hand, is as sharp as ever though he does meddle very little in the correct education of the students. As many of you may also be aware, the High Inquisitor has corrected many of the more...questionable syllabi to make certain the lessons are age appropriate for the children."

"Indeed," Lucius nodded, looking very pleased. "Many of my acquaintances on the Educational Board have told me the changes she's made are numerous but it remains to be seen whether or not they're effective."

Ruben was shaking his head, smirking, but Rose had the distinct impression he was disgusted with the turn the conversation had taken. "I have personally worked with Dolores Umbridge," he said slowly, "and I do not believe her addition to Hogwarts will make the institution any better than it is now. The woman is hardly an intellectual, and rumor has it there's a troll somewhere in her family tree."

A few chuckled, but then the conversation was redirected by Arthur Jugson to the new werewolf bill which was trying to be passed.

Dinner ended without any further topic which was too controversial, and Rose was able to maintain some of her charm and poise as she discussed things with those seated near her. Severus rarely ventured an opinion, but when he did it was concise and earned him the approval of the others. Rose was the only witch who volunteered anything to the conversation around Lucius Malfoy's end of the table, but she did not mind it. It was better for the others, women she remembered distinctly helping through most of their homework during their school days, to remain silent and smile or frown now and than to express their opinions.

Dessert and coffee would be taken in another room, some of the guests had to leave, and so the party had dwindled in numbers by the time Rose and Severus found themselves standing near the doors of Malfoy's personal study. They were walking, with the others, towards the sitting room Narcissa had directed them to while she bid those who were leaving a fond goodnight and gave them bits of the cake she was planning to serve since they were not able to stay.

Lucius had caught up to the Snapes just as they walked past his study. "Severus, I wonder if you might step into my study for a moment? There is something I would like to speak to you about." He offered a charming, though condescending, smile and nod to Rose. "I will make certain he rejoins you soon, dear lady."

"Thank you," Rose answered calmly, then followed the others into the sitting room, not even flustered in the slightest by the interuption. There was no doubt in her mind that Malfoy wanted to discuss _her_ with Severus.

Fahle fell into step with her. "Since you have been momentarily deprived of your escort," he said gallantly, "I was hoping you'd let me temporarily take his place."

"How kind of you," Rose replied, offering him a smile that neither encouraged nor discouraged such a move. "Severus should not be long, Mister Fahle, so I doubt you will be inconvenienced for long."

"It is hardly an inconvenience to have a witch as lovely and intelligent as you on my arm," he replied, offering said arm to her.

Rose took his arm easily, remaining charming. "Flattery, as they say, will get you no where, Mister Fahle."

"Please, Professor, call me Ruben. I protest that it is not flattery—I do what I can to never speak an idle word. It is the honest truth that you are both lovely and intelligent, as all here have witnessed tonight. You're also astoundingly brave. There aren't many who would disagree in Lucius's own house about his opinion."

She did not remember him from school or her time among the Death Eaters, so Rose was unsure on what ground he stood on and how much he knew. Of course, most of those at the party that night had last seen Rose writhing in the mud as the child in her womb was magically poisoned by their Dark Lord. Did this wizard know anything about that? Where did his allegiance lay? She was cautious in her words to him, and she wondered that he would approach her so boldly. Perhaps he did not know she was still married. Perhaps he didn't care.

"Ah, but now I have chased you into a corner," he observed when she only pursed her lips and did not comment. "I suppose there is bad blood between yourself and the Malfoys?"

Rose chuckled, carefully saying, "No, merely the wrong blood. I'm muggle born, you see."

"Ah, that explains some of the coolness," Ruben said with a wry smile. "Outspoken and _'unclean.'_ But never fear, Professor Rose, for I am in the same boat as you are. Half-and-half, terribly outspoken, but at least I have a small fortune to back me up."

"I have but a teacher's pay," she said, though it was untrue. Rose was in possession of one-third of an enormous fortune left to her by her father. Her father had been an investor, and Peter Evans had always made wise—if a tad strange—investments. One of the smartest things he had ever done was buy up a great deal of stock for a _toy_, called the Rubix Cube, which was known universally as an irritating brain-buster. That only made it more popular as people matched wits with it. When Peter Evans and his wife, Daisy, had died the fortune had not been made yet. It was still all in stocks and bonds, but over the years the investments had proved sound. Rose Evans had watched her bank account with growing surprise, after she had left Britain was when things began to take shape.

Dimly she wondered if Severus was aware of her wealth. Before leaving him she had severed their accounts, leaving him to his money and she to hers, so he had no access to such information unless he dug for it.

They had entered the sitting room, and Ruben led her to a small loveseat slightly away from the others. "You'll forgive me my impertinence, Rose, but since I have come to Britain I haven't found many people who are as delightful as yourself to converse with."

"I noticed a peculiarity in your accent, Ruben. Where are you from?" she asked kindly.

"South Africa," he returned, smiling. "Though I've done a great deal of traveling over the years, and much of it in the United Kingdom. I also make it my hobby to keep up on current politics in this region."

"Do you?" Rose smiled, amused. "If that is your hobby, sir, what is your business?"

"A little of this and that," was his evasive answer. "As I've told you, I've got a small fortune behind me and that makes all the difference. I can really do anything I like."

"And what is it you like, sir?" She took a cup of coffee from a young house elf who offered a tray, then a small cake from another. "Politics is hardly something I myself find worthy of being a hobby, much less a profession."

"Ah, but you're a teacher," he replied, again evading her question. "So you probably play politics very well yourself. A classroom, I've observed, is no better or any worse than any other place to further ambition."

"I have little ambition outside of teaching at Hogwarts," she replied. "What teacher can wish for more? It is one of the most prominent schools in the world."

"Perhaps, but something tells me you're destined for greater things," Ruben murmured, sipping from his own cup of coffee, still smiling. "As I've said, you're both intelligent and lovely. Shame on you if all you want from life is to sit and tutor other people's children on the finer arts of Defense."

"It is a perfectly respectable thing to do," she argued mildly, though she was uncomfortable with the change in subject. He was becoming very personal very quickly.

"It is. But are you very concerned with being respectable, Rose?" he asked, smirking. There was a decidedly superior air to him, his dark eyes—brown and as murky as mud—narrowed almost suspiciously. "That's not what I've heard. Not only did you roundly disapprove of influential people in your earlier years, but you married directly out of Hogwarts and were rarely seen by society except when Narcissa Malfoy had you to her parties and teas. Am I correct?"

"You are," she answered, narrowing her eyes in return. "What else have you heard?"

"That you supposedly died, very publicly and hardly respectably, by interrupting a planned attack on a muggle train station. You then disappeared, presumed dead, and were condemned as being one of You-Know-Who's followers before you supposedly defected and died." He smiled, a handsome and dry expression which made him considerably attractive. Rose wondered how old he was, and she determined to find out as much as she could about him at once. He was far too nosy to be as unimportant as he tried to appear.

She only shrugged, turning her attention to the small cake she held on a plate. "And here I am again. The question everyone must now be asking is, 'what will she do next and whose side _is_ she on?' I am well aware of the speculation and distrust which hovers around my name, sir."

"Good for you, that means you'll be careful," he stated in an off-hand manner.

Rose voiced her thought without thinking. "Was that a warning?"

"An observation," he corrected, though he met her eyes and gave her a slow smile. "Besides that, are there really many sides to choose from any more? You-Know-Who is dead."

"Is he?" she asked. "There are those who disagree with you."

"The Headmaster of Hogwarts and your nephew." He shrugged. "Common opinion points the other direction, Madame." Ruben lowered his voice then, as well as he lowered his eyes to his cup of coffee. "We live in dangerous times, Professor Rose." His eyes openly swept her figure, though the gesture seemed more calculating than lewd. "And to me, my dear, you appear to be a very dangerous sort of witch."

"None more dangerous," a voice said, and the two looked up to see Severus Snape had come upon them. Severus stood, an obsidian pillar of frost with a disapproving scowl that sent most scuttling away from him. Ruben only smiled, murmured his farewell to Rose, and removed himself to another corner of the room, relinquishing his seat and the witch to Severus. "I don't like him," he grumbled when he was seated next to his wife. "Or the way he looked at you."

"He was very polite," Rose murmured, her eyes unfocused as she carefully went over the conversation her husband had just terminated. "Do you know much about him?" Her green, dragon's-fire eyes turned back up to her husband's and she was disappointed when he shook his head.

"Nothing of much interest. He travels, he's wealthy, he can call any politician he wishes on a first name basis and if he as shown up at any..._meetings._..." Severus shook his head again. "I have not noticed. What else did he say to you?" he asked, narrowing his eyes and taking in her appearance again. The way his eyes swept her frame, so possessive, with warmth that left her cheeks feeling rosier, momentarily disarmed her. "Very dangerous," he murmured, his lips tugged upward in an unrevealed smile. He brushed a curl of her hair briefly away from the bare skin of one shoulder, the look in his eyes made her shiver and smile.

Melinda Goyle was upon them, laughing gaily and with more gossip to spill, before another word could be said.

* * *

_Sneak Preview_: _Harry's Outburst_ in class lands him in a lot of trouble, and gives Rose an enormous headache. _It's a Jolly Holiday with Rose _helps those two straighten things out, and Harry learns a few startling things about his parents' days at school. Then, in _Pawns_, Severus does something VERY out of character. But don't worry, his reasoning is explained fairly well. And, no, this story isn't going to be over anytime soon.

**To My Reviewers**:

**Kiss-of-Cuteness**: The Malfoys would never invite someone as…toady…as Umbridge to their home. Of what advantage would that be for them? Besides, Umbridge is no Dark Witch (Sirius said so!), and she abhors their kind.

**Cat Alex**: I thank you for your kind compliments and I'm very glad I've got you 'hooked' on Rose. I'm about to add a few wrinkles in this 'seamless' story, so stay tuned!

**Evil Duckie of the BlackLagoon**: Hey, I noticed you're reviewing Mandy the O's PotO Phic. Great stuff, isn't it? I find our minds think somewhat alike…Snape saying no to Rose's advance, Erik swiftly back-peddling when he could be so…ahem…with Genn. I'm addicted to her stuff and I wish I was as inspired as she is. Yes, this is a **SHAMELESS PLUG**.

**Heather**: I went looking for your story, using the pen name you gave me, and I couldn't find it. What's the title of the story? I might have better luck that way. Or you could just log in before reviewing, then I could click on your name…. I'd love to check it out!

**Lydia**: You'll love knowing I completely didn't heed your advice on my problem. :-) My muse took me a different direction, and it's an odd one, but you might like it still. As to the fluff of last chapter—I couldn't help myself! I had to work in a moment of peace for those two.

**Giugliana**: I don't understand those that say they 'never review!' Do you realize how sad that is? Half the time I update it's not because I really want to, it's because my reviewers demand it! I live off of kind reviews some days. Thank you for breaking your 'never reviewing' streak and dropping me such a kind compliment. :-) I'll be looking for more from you.

**Arashi7**: Wow! Thanks for catching up with that one review. Thankfully, things are shaping up nicely, and I know—Severus can be frustrating with his insecurities. But would the story be any good any other way?

**Black Sheep Alone**: Severus, the Gentleman! Yes, I know it's rarely done, but someone had to do it. Those waiting for steamer chapters haven't long to go now. I'm just trying to keep things tasteful. The world of romance doesn't have to be all tearing-bodices and heaving-breasts you know. ;-) Thanks for the encouragement.

**Illume**: Glad to see you around again! Thankee for the review!

**Loraliant**** Angelisa Snape**: Constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. I need something to work with, after all!

Love and Marshmallows to all!

**_-JB-_**


	9. Harry's Outburst

**_Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm_**

_By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large_

**Beta**: Foggy Librarian

**Notes**: Sick. With the flu. A lot of you were asking about **_Ruben Fahle_**, so I thought I'd clear him up a little first. Someone suggested he might be Sirius Black in disguise—not so, I assure you. He is exactly who he says he is. -) Yes, I count on him being an important character later on but he is not going to intrude into the story. He's got better things to do.

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

**_CHAPTER NINE: Harry's Outburst_**

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

"Wands away, class," Rose said after many of her students, fifth year Slytherin and Gryffindor, settled into their seats at their work tables. "I am sure many of you have seen the notices—the latest educational decree demanding that many of your professors change their course materials and lessons. This class, I am sorry to say, has experienced the most changes. Please take up a copy of the new textbook, generously donated by Lucius Malfoy because it is too late in the term to expect you to go out and buy your own copies."

Copies of _Defensive Magical Theory_, by Wilbert Slinkhard, flew off a shelves in the back of the room, one landing neatly before each student. "If you ever wish to borrow a copy you must check it out with me before leaving this classroom with it. I'll hand back some of your work as you begin reading the seventh chapter of the text—which is about where we would be had we been using this book all along. Silence, please, so that those around you may read."

The new syllabus, written by Dolores Umbridge herself, listed very little under the heading 'Course Aims.' All trash, which didn't mean much except that 'wands away' would likely be the mainstay phrase for the rest of the year.

Hermione Granger waited until Rose handed back some of her work to ask, in a whisper, "Professor Evans, there's nothing in the syllabus about actually _using_ defensive spells. Is that an oversight?"

"I'm afraid not, Hermione," Rose answered, smiling tightly. "The new Ministry approved syllabus is not...not what I had hoped for."

Ron had been listening and he loudly interjected, "We're not going to use magic?" The class stilled, all attention was riveted on Rose.

"The Ministry doesn't foresee any reason for you to actually require the use of defensive spells," Rose answered, looking directly at Ron. "Please raise your hand, Mister Weasley."

Hermione raised her hand politely. "Yes, Hermione?" Rose had that sinking feeling again—it was going to be a long day.

"Professor Evans," Hermione said, her eyes wide and confused, "isn't the whole point of this class to practice using defensive spells."

Rose shrugged, helplessly, and looked about her to see the mounting confusion and surprise on the faces of her students. "Madame Umbridge gave me the syllabus, and unless we stick to it she will remove me from my post. I am afraid we must do as the syllabus says and learn the course objectives in theory and through study rather than practice—"

Harry Potter was obviously in a bad mood, he interrupted his aunt with a dark scowl and a harsh tone. "What use is that? If we're going to be attacked—"

"Yeah!" Dean Thomas interrupted. "What if—"

But others were clamoring, loudly talking amongst themselves. The Patil girl wanted to know about the effect this would have on their O.W.L. preparation, others were worrying along the same lines, massive confusion was breaking out.

No one noticed the door open at the back, or the tall wizard who stepped inside.

"_What about Lord Voldemort_?" Harry asked loudly, his voice rising above the others.

Pandemonium nearly broke out as several girls shrieked, others gasped, and Neville Longbottom fell off his stool. Even the Slytherins reacted in that way—Draco Malfoy's skin paled horribly, Pansy Parkinson bit her lip, and Gregory Goyle snapped the sugar quill he had been holding.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter," a cool voice from the doorway interrupted. The class, as a group, turned to stare stupidly at Professor Snape. He nodded, coolly, towards Rose. "I was passing by your classroom, Professor Evans, when I heard an alarming amount of..._activity_ from the room. Anything amiss?"

"Professor Snape!" Draco Malfoy was standing, looking alarmed, "We aren't allowed to practice magic anymore in this class." Several Gryffindors looked startled that Malfoy was at all worried by this turn in events. But there it was, written in the boy's expression—something about this distressed him.

Severus looked calmly at the young Slytherin, then took in the expression of the rest of the class. "I hardly think that is reason to erupt into chaos and shout the name of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Voldemort," Harry spat.

"Harry," Rose warned, shooting a warning glance at him. "Five more points from Gryffindor. Even if you have no qualms saying that word there are others in the room who do and you should respect that."

Harry shot to his feet, knocking his chair back. "According to _others_ in this room I'm a raving lunatic and Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord!"

The students in the room gasped, and Rose paled considerably. "Harry, Cedric Diggory's death was—"

"It was _murder_!" he nearly shouted, his entire body trembled. "Voldemort killed him, I saw it, and _you_ know—"

Severus broke in harshly, before Harry could say too much, "Watch yourself, Potter," he snarled.

"It sounds," a new, breezy voice said from the doorway, "as if Mr. Potter is having behavior problems."

Rose suppressed a groan as Dolores Umbridge entered the room. "Having problems, Professor Evans? Why, you must be if Professor Snape felt the need to step in. Dear me, whatever _is_ the matter? I heard a great deal of shouting...mostly young Mr. Potter's shouting."

Although she was alarmed at this turn in events, Rose managed not to show it. "Merely a misunderstanding about the new course work, Madame. Everything will be just fine and I have the situation under control. Professor Snape was just leaving."

Severus gave a warning glance again to Harry, then a curt nod to the other Slytherins which reined in any further outrage they might have expressed. "Good day to you, Professor Evans. Madame." He bowed stiffly to them, and then swept from the room without once looking back or appearing interested at all in Madame Umbridge's appearance.

"Well, well," Umbridge crooned, looking pointedly at Harry. "Any problems or questions about any new course work can be directed towards me, dear children. You all know where my office is located—on the first floor, don't forget—so you are more than welcome to pop in at any time convenient to you. I'll be more than happy to listen to your concerns. But I would like to borrow Mr. Potter from you, Professor, for a discussion out in the hall."

Harry stormed up the aisle and out of the room before Rose could consent—indeed, she was about to protest when he took the matter out of her hands. _'He has a temper on him,'_ she noted, knowing when Umbridge followed the boy and shut the door behind them that things were about to get ugly. _'He certainly didn't get that from Lily.'_

Class ended without Harry reappearing. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley gathered his things and promised to give them to him, along with his returned assignments, when next they saw him.

Later that day, Rose's fourth years were not at all happy as Rose handed them copies of the revised syllabus. Especially when she commanded them to commence reading from the new text, the highly useless _Defensive Magical Theory_. Rose didn't blame them a bit, and after a few minute of the reading she began to walk among their work tables, handing back previous assignments in silence.

She caught a mumbled comment Ginny Weasley made to a boy, Creevy was the name, sitting next to her. "Hermione's going to go crazy." The boy only nodded, and silence was all that Rose was then able to hear.

Rose sighed to herself. She leaned down and, whispering so that none but Ginny might hear, "Miss Granger did, indeed, disapprove."

Ginny looked startled to have been directly told this, but she nodded and narrowed her eyes. "No more spells?" she asked.

"No more spells," Rose replied, "except what you _read_ about in that textbook."

The silence of the classroom was only broken again, right before dismissal, when Rose asked for a six-inch summary of the chapter they had read that day to be turned in the next time class was held. She was relieved the fourth years hadn't repeated the incident with the fifth years.

She ventured into the staff room; there was a half-hour gap now between classes. Minerva McGonagall was sitting and speaking animatedly to the witch who could be her twin—Professor Annabell Annals, who was teaching another elective, History of Inner-Wizarding Wars. It was an alternative for sixth and seventh years to Professor Binns's class, one which most of them took. "...all week long!" Minerva was saying, looking irritable. "Detention!"

Annals, normally a cheerful older witch, shook her head sadly. "He's such a good boy, too. Very polite, from my experience. I cannot believe he actually shouted at her."

Rose stood as still as a statue, surprised. "Excuse me," she put in politely, "but I must ask...are you talking about Harry Potter?"

"Yes," Minerva answered quickly, looking disturbed still. "Apparently the incident in your classroom, Professor, led to a detention for him. Madame Umbridge says he got into an argument with her in which he was very disrespectful."

Now Rose finally did groan, falling into one of the over-stuffed chairs near the hearth. "His temper is going to get him into awful trouble one day. Minerva, I'm so sorry, I tried to keep things quiet but the new syllabus—"

"Is a load of rubbish," the voice of Charlie Weasley burst into the conversation as he entered the room. He looked agitated. "My own is just as bad. It's a _political_ class, for Merlin's sake! She tore out whole chapters on vampires, warlocks, and giants because the Ministry disapproves of them. She drastically downsized my information on Centaurs because they're _not_ human beings according to the Ministry, and dismissed just as much from other sections as too controversial for 'young minds' to worry about. It took every ounce of self-control I've got to keep from cramming the useless trash down her throat." He collapsed, dramatically, onto one end of the couch Minerva and Annals occupied. "It's not your fault, Rose, that your students rioted. Some of my seventh years did the same."

"Thankfully, Transfiguration wasn't tampered with," Minerva commented, sounding slightly apologetic.

Others filtered in, and there was an air of annoyance with each of them. Obviously the work of Dolores Umbridge. Sir Roberts, a new teacher brought in at the beginning of the year to teach a specialized dueling class, had been dismissed over the weekend. His cheerful smile, and curling mustaches, were missed. Professor Balmer, yet another new teacher specializing in curing the effects of Dark Spells, had also been sacked. He was almost as old as Albus Dumbledore, and many were surprised to see him go. Of course, this meant the schedules of most of the students had to change, and the year was disrupted horribly.

"I had a lot of fifth year Slytherins," Filius Flitwick said, sitting on a stool near Rose, "in my last class talking about Harry Potter's outburst in your own class. It seems he brought up young Diggory."

Rose nodded and sighed. "Something tells me Harry's impassioned speeches will have long-term consequences on this school. We can only hope they aren't too horrible for him to shoulder."

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

"What _were_ you doing outside my classroom today?" Rose asked from the doorway of Severus Snape's office.

He glanced up, then gestured for her to take a seat in the chair across from his. "Given up knocking, Rose?"

"It's not something you seem to practice," she retorted with a smile. "Are you going to answer me or be secretive again?"

"Ah." Severus sat back, crossing his arms and smiling coolly at her. "I am very aware of Draco Malfoy's schedule and I regularly check up on him, as a personal favor to his father."

"Oh, I see." She doubted that was the entire reason he was outside her door but accepted the explanation with a curt nod. "Speaking of Lucius, what was it he wanted to speak to you so urgently about last night?"

"The usual. Reminding me of my duties to the Dark Lord, asking if I knew where you stood. I was evasive, but respectfully so. Why? Were you worried?" He looked amused, if the half-smile on his face wasn't indication enough of that his eyes were glimmering.

Rose shook her head and reached to take up a cauldron-shaped paper-weight from his desk. "A bit. I have great confidence in you, Severus, but Malfoy still gets under my skin."

"Which is a shame," Severus murmured, narrowing his eyes and taking her in appreciatively. "It's such lovely skin."

"You've got the strangest flirting tactics, Severus," Rose murmured, smiling despite herself. "They have improved since my graduation, though. Been practicing?"

He sobered immediately, and Rose realized what she had implied. She was ready to apologize, it was none of her business, but Severus fixed her with a very serious stare. "No."

"I didn't mean that the way it must have sounded," she murmured, turning the paper-weight over in her hands. It was a perfect, miniature replica of a working cauldron.

"I know. But I meant what I said. I haven't been practicing. Celibacy, Rose, isn't all that hard when no one you know measures up to your expectations. There aren't many who could take your place."

"Very sentimental of you to say so," she replied, a teasing smile tilting her lips upward. This was not the time for a conversation like that and she certainly wasn't up to the challenge it would present. Things had to be taken slowly. "Have your course objectives changed much?"

"Umbridge took one potion off my seventh-year course; she thought it was too advanced and dangerous." He shrugged. "Other than that my classes remain the same as always."

"Horribly dark, dank, and smelly," Rose said tartly, wrinkling her nose. "I'm surprised the Ministry doesn't have anything to say about learning environments. How do you expect students to get anything right when they work in that miserable dungeon room?"

Severus shrugged, unconcerned, and brushed a dark strand of hair behind his ear. "They'll have little choice of environments for such work later in life, no reason to coddle them now." He handed her a sheet—a grade sheet. "Your nephew's latest work."

"D?" Rose looked horribly surprised. "Surely he's not that bad..."

"It was a simple essay, Rose, which he clearly shirked. I've handed it back to him, or else I'd happily allow you to read it. He puts no effort into my classes." He sounded offended, to Rose's amusement. "He deserves nothing better than what he receives in my class."

"Perhaps if you didn't show such...well..." Rose shrugged. "Are you sure you aren't allowing personal feelings into your grading?"

He bristled. "I am not."

"All right, all right." She handed him back the grade sheet. "I really don't want to argue with you about it. But think about it, Severus. He is your nephew too."

"By marriage," he said in a clipped tone.

"Your marriage to me." Rose stood and came around his desk, slipping onto his lap and resting her cheek against his chest. Perhaps she was kidding herself about her reasons for coming down to the dungeon, because the moment she was so close to him…she felt peaceful, warm despite the chill and damp in the dungeon air. "I understand you didn't like James or his friends, and Harry hasn't given you much of a reason to like him either. You've also got to live up to what the Slytherins expect of you. But Severus, he's just a boy and I really think all his arrogance is a result of defense and confusion. He has few people to rely on." She hesitated, then ventured, "How are the Occlumency lessons coming?"

One of his hands idly stroked up and down her arm, he shrugged. "He's not putting effort into those, either. I know more about Potter than I want to, and if you knew what I did it is likely you would let that horrid muggle sister of yours have a piece of your mind—and your wand. It's almost as if he _wants_ to have his dreams, to be important by having them, or to..."

"To know what the Dark Lord is thinking," Rose finished for him, wincing. "I wish Dumbledore would talk to him more."

"You know why he doesn't."

"Yes. I wish there was something I could do." She sighed into his robes.

Severus breathed her scent in—the same, comforting scent of rain and wind he had always enjoyed about her—and smiled. "Perhaps an outing with his aunt would help?"

Abruptly she leaned back to look up at him. "Are you suggesting a way for me to cheer my nephew up, Severus?"

"Perhaps it would improve his learning ability," Severus said, ignoring her question and her knowing smirk. "It's not as if you have much else to do. Planning lessons, for example, is unnecessary since your lectures are to come straight from that textbook."

"An outing with my nephew. It sounds like something out of Mary Poppins."

"Who?"

"Muggle thing, Severus."

"Oh."

* * *

Marry Poppins's Anniversay DVD came out recently—and I finally purchased it! I've been watching all the special features and commentary. Wonderful. In fact, it's more than wonderful! It's _Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious_. And guess what? Spell check actually let that word slip by! Turns out I have it in my computer dictionary! HA! 

Sneak Preview: _It's a Jolly Holiday with Rose _helps those two straighten things out, and Harry learns a few startling things about his parents' days at school. Then, in _Pawns_, Severus does something VERY out of character. But don't worry, his reasoning is explained fairly well. _Memories_ assail the two Hogwarts professors as they finally force some issues between them out into the open. That chapter will also serve as a 'refresher course' to those who may have forgotten things from the first Rose story.

**To My Reviewers**:

Evil Duckie: Hiya. Thanks for the continued reviews and the urging to 'update soon.' I appreciate them.

Kiss of Cuteness: Wizarding politics weren't fun to write last chapter, so I'm glad they came out okay. Enjoy this one just as much—school room politics. Yay.

Arashi7: I had to get Harry a detention with Umbridge. His hatred of her is a major theme in Book 5 so it was necessary to put that in as a subplot to my own work. This story involves Harry, but it isn't about him this time. It's all about Severus.

Mandy the O: I look forward to hearing more from you! You're an awesome writer, and I'm honored you're reading my fics.

Nabenabe: You're welcome for the update. -D I'm just sorry I don't have the time to dedicate to this fic that I would like. But I'm three weeks now into the semester—I HATE college sometimes, I got a bunch of Professors who remind me of Atilla the Hun, Hitler, Saddam, and Umbridge respectively. Blah.

Loraliant Angelisa Snape: Dialogue. Gotcha. Was in a rush today so I didn't implement your suggestion on this chapter. I will in coming chapters. Obviously you picked up on this eye obsession I have. -) My characters, unfortunately, have been forced to share that obsession of STARING into each other's eyes as every word is said. Will look out for it in future. Thank you so much for the constructive criticism! I rarely get any of that anymore.

Illume: See my comment about Ruben Fahle (lol, the 'sketchball') above. And drop me another review, please. I've missed ya!

Black Sheep Alone: Beware. More dark chapters ahead. But also, I'm afraid, one really emotionally weird one. One moment Severus is happy, the next he's insecure. Honestly, the guy is so hard to work with.

Heather: I devoted too much of the last chapter to Ruben to leave it at that, so you're right to expect him to show up again—in the DISTANT future. Purebloods remind me of snobby preps. I write them as such. They think they're so smart…. Did anyone catch the dig in Rose's thoughts about the witches present? Hehe. Subtle, but fun.

Giugliana: Okay, in answer to your questions. The DA, as you can see from this chapter, still has every reason to form. I haven't discussed it with them yet to see if they're interested, but you know Harry and company. Very secretive bunch. Rose giving Harry romantic advice…you'll actually see the answer to that question in the next chapter. Remember, Rose is unsure of her standing with her nephew. Am I going to kill Sirius? I haven't decided yet. I can go either way on that one. Maybe I'll take a vote. (evil grin) But please do review again, and ask more questions. I answer them the best I can. Did you read the previous story or jump straight to this sequel?

Lydia: Watch out, Lucius Malfoy isn't done with Severus yet. About two chapters from now things are going to get a little darker. Now I'm off to take more flu medicine.

Thankee to all! Review, please, it keeps me writing!

**_-JB-_**


	10. A Jolly Holiday With Aunt Rose

**_Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm_**

_By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large_

**Beta**: Foggy Librarian

**Notes**: Flu's gone. Evil Professors still at work. AND THIS STUPID EDITOR TOOK OUT ALL MY PUNCTUATION. Meaning QuickEdit, of course, not Foggy. So I apologize for any of those little mistakes, I tried to get them all but you never know...

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

**_CHAPTER TEN: It's a Jolly Holiday with Rose_**

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Sirius Black looked through the fire at her, obviously trying to determine if he was actually hearing what he thought he was hearing. "You want to do _what?"_

"Plan an outing. Harry, you, and me. We can go to a muggle park, even the Forbidden Forest has some nice spots—"

"I know," he grumbled. "I haven't forgotten the last time I was in the Forbidden Forest with you either."

Rose laughed lightly, then smirked at him. "We did let you out of that hole again, Sirius. You deserved it."

"I'm lucky you and your slimy boyfriend didn't kill me," he retorted, referring to an incident when Severus and Rose had exacted a small bit of revenge on him. "You never did apologize for that one."

"And I never will," she retorted, now grinning impishly. "So are you in or aren't you?"

"Snape won't be there?"

"No. Severus won't be there," she replied evenly. "He doesn't know you'll be there, either. But I don't think Harry and I know each other well enough to actually have fun together. I'm sure you'll liven things up."

"I would like to talk to him..." Sirius's voice trailed off. "I tried a while back, with the fire you know."

"Sirius, that's dangerous," Rose immediately rebuked—his expression darkened. "Anyone could walk into the common room and catch you—and if Umbridge found out—"

"I've heard Harry got detention with her, for something he did in _your_ class," Sirius stated accusingly.

Rose narrowed her eyes at him. "I didn't sick the evil toad on him, if that's what you mean. She came in unannounced, and there was little I could do when he started arguing with her out in the corridor. She's a horrid person, Sirius, but if your godson can't keep that temper of his in check—"

"My godson is also your nephew, and from what I can tell you're not exactly doing your best to check up on him and keep him out of scrapes."

"He's fifteen years old," Rose countered. "What do you want me to do? Hold his hand? Spank him when he misbehaves?"

Sirius rolled his eyes at her. "Do you even know how he's doing in Occlumency? Or have you asked your precious Snivellus yet?"

"Severus," Rose replied calmly, "has told me that the lessons aren't going well at all. Harry can construct no barriers, isn't even making an attempt at it. Severus knows more about Harry's personal life than he ever wanted to and Harry's not fighting back much."

"Probably due to Snape's lack of respect for his students—or maybe he _wants_ to see Harry fail."

"If you're stupidly implying that Severus is still a Dark wizard I'll thank you to correct that right now," she growled at him, and he could see easily that she would love nothing better than to reach through the fire and throttle him.

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Poisonous mushrooms never change their spots, Rose."

She came to her feet, standing away from the fire, and turned her back on him. "If that's all you have to say I have no further reason to chat with you. This was a bad idea. I'll talk to Harry myself."

"No, you won't. I don't trust _you_ either," Sirius snarled. "This Saturday, Forbidden Forest at noon outside of Hagrid's hut. Follow the paw prints." He vanished from the flames, and Rose shivered angrily before throwing herself into her chair. "Stupid, smelly, arrogant, idiotic prat," she hissed.

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Harry had his hands shoved in his pockets, and was leaning against the wall of Hagrid's hut, wondering what exactly was going on. Professor Evans, his _aunt_, had only informed him the evening before—privately—that she wished for him to meet her there. He had no idea what was going on, nor was he sure he should have come alone. Hermione and Ron had a prefect meeting, however, and they had been so...worrisome lately that he hadn't even told them what he was up to. Let them figure it out, if they could stop bickering long enough to do so.

He was wearing one of the green sweaters Molly had made him the previous Christmas, though it was getting a little short in the arms. He wasn't growing nearly as quickly as Ron, which was a relief—it meant his clothes fit longer.

"Ah, good, you came alone," Rose Evans said, appearing around the corner of the hut and smiling kindly at him. She was dressed casually as well, and Harry was surprised to see how _muggle_-ish her clothing was. She wore faded denim jeans, brown hiking boots, and a dark red sweater. She had a brown fuzzy scarf around her neck and a matching knit cap atop her head. She looked ten years younger than she normally did—she wasn't wearing glasses and her hair was down brushing past her shoulders in auburn curls.

His aunt was _very_ good looking. She looked a lot like his mother had in photographs, except her coloring was slightly darker. Harry felt a momentary wistfulness…a short daydream… that this was his mother standing before him rather than his aunt, but he brushed those feelings away and offered her a smile. "Professor, what's going on?" he asked, completely respectfully.

"Oh, not too much at all. I just thought you might enjoy a short outing—to get away from the school for a little while and relax." Her smile was small, but genuine, and she took in his appearance carefully. "How were the detentions with Umbridge? They're over now, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, though he shoved one hand further into his pocket and drew out the other to scratch behind his ear. "They weren't that bad. Lines."

"Ah. Only lines," Rose met his eyes, wishing for a moment she had Severus's gift for Legilimency. She had the sneaking suspicion Harry wasn't telling the whole truth, but she brushed that thought away and offered him an even cheerier smile. "Things can't get much worse with her around. She's only a nuisance, Harry. But enough about that toad—erm, Madame Umbridge."

Harry grinned at the slip of her tongue and gestured towards her clothing. "So you're dressed muggle. Where are we going, Professor?"

"Please, stop calling me that," she interjected lightly, flipping one end of her scarf over her shoulder. "We're going to take a dog for a walk, in a lovely park just west of the Forest."

Immediately the boy perked up, excitement lit his eyes. "A dog? What sort of dog"

"An ugly, mangy mutt," was her dry answer. Rose knelt and brushed at some dried leaves near the base of the hut, then brushed away a few more until— "Ah, here we are! His paw prints. Come, Harry, we have to track the mutt before we'll be permitted to have any fun at all."

Falling into step beside her, Harry followed his aunt into the Forbidden Forest. At first they didn't speak much, they just watched the small path the paw prints of a large black dog had made. Then Harry ventured, "Aunt Rose..."

She smiled at the new title and looked over at him—indeed, he was nearly as tall as she was. Perhaps he would have his father's height—or his grandfather's. Peter Evans had been a taller man. "Yes, Harry."

"Why are we doing this?" he asked, his green eyes alight with curiosity. "I didn't think students were allowed to leave the grounds without permission, either."

"They're not. But your legal guardian arranged things with the Headmaster, and you are being escorted by a competent member of the staff. You're well within the rules, Harry. As to why we're doing this...well, you need some fresh air to _clear your mind_ a little."

He scowled but shrugged. The implication of that phrase, and her emphasis on the words, told him all he needed to know. "I don't know why you married such a...Professor Snape. He's been telling you about my _remedial_ lessons, hasn't he?"

"He told me a little," she confessed, sighing. "Occlumency isn't easy, Harry, but Severus does know what he's doing. He taught me enough of it to get by for a while, until I stood under the threat of Vertisium—Truth Syrum, you understand—I held up very well with his methods."

"He's not a good teacher," Harry bit out, moodily. "All he ever does is criticize, ridicule, and punish his students. I'm not so sure I _want_ him on our side of the war."

Rose briefly counted backwards from ten to control the flurry of words she wanted to rebuke the boy with. _'He's just a child,'_ she reminded herself. _'He doesn't know anything about Severus except what Severus wants him to know.'_ She tried a different tactic. "He is your uncle, Harry." It worked about as well on him as it had on Severus.

Harry jerked as if he'd been struck by her and stopped in his tracks. "That's not _my_ fault," he responded defensively. "Snape's probably a worse relative than the Dursleys."

"I doubt that," she answered, sighing. "Harry, do you know anything about the man? Anything about his past, his personal history?"

"Only what I've caught glimpses of," he replied bitterly, "the few times I've gotten anywhere near touching him during our lessons. He's a black—"

"No more adjectives, please," she interrupted, then she began walking again, following the prints in the soft earth. "Harry, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. I know you don't like Severus, but don't let your personal feelings get in the way of you learning something _imperative_ to your survival."

"Dumbledore said I wasn't possessed or being possessed by Voldemort, so why do I have to know this stuff anyway? No one tells me about the Order, so I don't have any secrets to hide. No one tells me anything! Except to stay out of trouble, sit tight, watch what I say..." He groaned. "I hate it. If I'm so important to the fight then why haven't I been taught what to do before now? Why hasn't anyone told me what's going on?"

"Has it never occurred to you," Rose said carefully, "that we're not just doing this for _you_, Harry? That there are other lives at stake? If you can see the thoughts, dream the dreams of the Dark Lord than he can do the same with your thoughts and dreams. We cannot tell you anything until you can protect yourself from that. Harry, you're acting like a spoiled little boy who won't take his medicine just because it tastes bad. From your experience, aren't the more useful and potent potions those which do the greatest mending?" she asked.

"If Snape's medicine than _you _can have my share, thanks," Harry returned, scowling. "I'd rather be diseased."

"Obstinate and stubborn," Rose grumbled. "Lovely combination of your parents in that one, Harry."

They continued to walk in silence for a few moments before Harry ventured, slowly, "What was my mum like? As a girl, I mean."

Rose smiled softly at him, and then shrugged. "Perfect, almost. Angelic, beautiful, warm-hearted, patient. All the Evans girls were stubborn as mules, though. Your mum wasn't very judgmental, she was smart, everyone who really knew Lily liked her. She stood up for the underdog—even Severus a few times. For the longest time she couldn't stand your father, because—well."Rose cast a side-long look at him. "There are two sides to every story, Harry. Everyone thought your father was the smartest, wittiest, most athletic young man at Hogwarts. He and Sirius could have had any girl they wanted, and teachers doted on them. Remus joined in on the friendship, but surprisingly that didn't help them mellow out any. They were just boys, of course. Arrogant, proud, sure of themselves. Severus, when he met them, wasn't at all like them. It didn't take long for them to dislike him and for him to hate them.

"Your father and Sirius did all sorts of things to Severus—granted, most of the time Severus got his revenge or even started it. Lily couldn't stand the inter-house fighting, especially with her sister being a Slytherin. It didn't help when James tried to convince her I was Snape's girlfriend. So she didn't like him. Not until their sixth year, when he matured and she didn't catch him picking on Severus every time she turned a corner."

Harry blinked at her, surprised by this side of things. "I knew Severus hated my dad 'cause of the Shrieking Shack, but I thought that was all."

Rose shuddered. "Now _that_ was a horrible night."

"You were there," Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses, he nearly tripped over a root in the path. "You...you saw what happened."

She shrugged and brushed an auburn curl out of her eyes, tucking it securely under her cap. "Yes, Harry. I was there."

_The werewolf leapt through the air._

_The heart-rending scream of a woman filled the air. "NO!"_

_James Potter leapt in front of Severus, wand-raised._

_The door slammed in front of the werewolf._

_There was another howl._

_And a bark of laughter._

"But let's talk about pleasanter things," she said brightly, ducking with him under a low branch over the path. "Like you. I don't know anything about you. D'you have a girlfriend?"

Harry blushed but shook his head immediately. "Not really."

"But there is a girl you're interested in, isn't there?" she asked, grinning impishly at him. "I can tell by the way you're blushing. Anyone I know, Harry?"

"Um. Maybe. The Ravenclaw Seeker...Cho Chang..." He blushed more and shrugged. "She's a nice girl."

"And very pretty." Rose nodded, but her eyes narrowed a little. Cho Chang was a Ravenclaw which made her incredibly intelligent, and one of the most emotional girls Rose had ever met. During one of the classes at the beginning of the year they started a discussion in class about trolls and dragons, and someone inevitably brought up the Triwizard Tournament, and Chang had burst into melodramatic sobs and fled the room. Rose respected the fact that the girl lost someone important to her, and Cedric Diggory's death was very tragic, but after sharing that experience with other members of the staff she found they ALL had had Cho do roughly the same thing in their classes.

The Boy Who Lived, and would indeed have to face Voldemort down to the death one day, needed someone who was a bit more stable emotionally. Or so Rose thought. But he was just a boy still, and Cho Chang might grow out of her behavior. So Rose tactfully changed the subject.

Before long they emerged from the Forbidden Forest and found themselves looking across a Muggle road to a large park filled with trees. And sitting under one of the trees, eyes alert and taking in everything, was a very large black dog.

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Rose and Harry had spent the afternoon playing with the dog—chasing each other, throwing sticks, telling jokes, and resting in the shade for a while enjoying the peacefulness of the day. Shortly before they had left, Harry had wandered into a densely wooded area with the dog, so Sirius could transform and they could have a word together. They had wanted to be back at Hogwarts before the sun set, however, so they started through the woods again just before that.

Harry spent the walk back to the school telling Rose the more humorous stories involving him and his cousin Dudley, as well as stories about his first year at Hogwarts and all the trouble he, Ron, and Hermione got into. Rose had laughed and shared some of her more amusing experiences as well, including some with Severus.

Although Harry hadn't objected to his Potion's Master being brought up, he always looked surprised when Rose had something nice to say about the Boy Severus Snape. He brushed most of it off, though.

He entered the common room of Gryffindor tower with a smile, and headed for his dorm so he could change for dinner, when Ginny intercepted him. "Harry! Where've you been? Hermione and Ron have been looking for you everywhere—they just gave up and went to the library to study for History."

Harry shrugged, still grinning happily. "Just went to a park. Found a nice stray dog to pal around with."

Ginny's mouth rounded in an 'O' as her eyes lightened, she smiled brightly at him. "I'm glad you had a good afternoon, then. After a week of suffering Umbridge you needed it." She waved over her shoulder and disappeared out the portrait hole. "See you at dinner, Harry."

"Yeah, see you."

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

"You really should stop breaking into my chambers," Rose said upon entering her room and finding Severus sitting in her chair, her _most_ comfortable chair, reading a book. "It's not a great habit."

He smirked up at her and shrugged, his black eyes flickering with amusement. "You're looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed—or so the saying goes," he murmured, taking in her happy smile and casual attire. He leaned forward in his chair and examined her closely. "You've got mud all over your pants."

"It was a little damp out, but we had so much fun." She turned and headed for her wardrobe, but was immediately halted when Severus stood and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling him back against his chest.

He bent his head down, his lips grazed her neck, and he inhaled her scent—rain... "Why," he drawled slowly, putting his lips now just over her ear, "do you have a very large, mud-brown, paw-print on your rear?"

Rose shuddered, then looked over her shoulder at him. She smiled, nervously. "Um. Good question..."

* * *

**Special Thanks to My Reviewers**: Evil Duckie, heather, Loraliant Angelisa Snape (will correct that last mistake in final draft!), Lydia, Black Sheep Alone, Arashi7, nabenabe, Cat Alex, kiss-of-cuteness, and Heather!

No time for individual responses today, but here are the answers to a few of y'all's questions.

**Ruben Fahle**: WAY too much interest in Rose is right, but while he was introduced only a couple of chapters ago he's not going to figure into this story for a while yet.

**Rose vs. Umbridge** is a fun subplot I've thrown in to give the toady witch a run for her money. Don't worry about Harry's detentions and the DA, he handled them well in Book 5 and he'll handle them well in this fic.

**Snape**** and Muggle Movies**: Snape has NEVER seen a Muggle movie, not even with Rose. But the idea is an entertaining one and may take some looking into…Mary Poppins, anyone?

See ya!

**_-JB-_**


	11. Pawns

**_Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm_**

_By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large_

**Beta**: Foggy Librarian

**IMPORTANT Note: Welcome, one and all, to the FLUFF chapters. The next three chapters, I am afraid to say to you angsty-Snape fans, are a bit fluffy. I posted the first today in honor of Valentine's Day. Forgive me, but it is essential to plot development.**

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

**_CHAPTER ELEVEN: Pawns_**

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Rose turned in his arms to face him, smiling a little sheepishly. "I invited Sirius to come, as Snuffles of course, to make things more comfortable for Harry," she admitted, unflinching, staring up into his bottomless black eyes. His expression was bemused, which meant he wasn't angry at least. She reached up and slid one hand through his hair, enjoying the soft feel of it. He was holding her _very_ close, she could feel his chest rise and fall against hers.

"We were playing a sort of tag in the park, and Harry and I were dashing away from Snuffles, when the mutt jumped on me and knocked me down. I guess that's where the paw print came from," she finished her explanation, slightly distracted by his nearness.

"I see," he whispered, his eyes never blinking or moving away from hers.

Her own expression changed, swiftly, to one of suspicion. Though she hadn't felt him try to pry into her thoughts... "Legilimency will tell you the same thing, you know."

"I believe you," he said, a corner of his mouth twitched upward in an almost-smile. "I wasn't practicing Legilimency."

"Then _why_ are you staring at me like that?" she demanded, glaring up at him, her lips pulling downward into a disapproving frown.

He leaned closer to her, still not taking his eyes off of hers. "_Ego amo te,_" he murmured, putting his lips lightly against hers as she gasped in surprise. She immediately put her hands against his chest and pushed herself back in order to look up at him, her shocked expression would have been comical under other circumstances.

"Either my Latin is worse than I thought it was or you just said..."

His dark eyes were glimmering; a slow, real smile curved his lips upwards. "Would you like it in another language? I know three others well enough..."

"English would be nice," she said, blinking up at him in disbelief. "But Severus, why—"

He cut her words off with another kiss, stronger now, more urgent. "Why now?" he murmured as she caught her breath. "When would you like me to say it if not at this moment?" He didn't sound anything more than politely curious, even as he pulled her closer against him.

Rose shook her head, shock still written in every line of her face and in the stiff way she held her body slightly from him, and she couldn't believe he was really himself at that moment. "Severus...say it when you mean it," she answered, taking one step back. She finally broke eye contact with him, looking down at her hiking boots and suddenly wishing she was back in the Forest. What right did he have to confuse her like this? One moment he was insisting they take it slow and the next he was spouting to her in Latin that he...

"Then I should've said it before my graduation from Hogwarts." He smirked when her eyes darted up to his again, and her jaw hung completely open. "You have mud on your cheek." He reached forward, stopping his fingers from touching the offending smudge by just millimeters. To touch her now could undo everything or solidify the moment...he could not know which. He decided to avoid the skin against skin contact...until she initiated it. His hand dropped back down to his side. He could wait...

Rose shook her head again, looking for all the world as a lost little girl might. She reached a hand up and tugged her knit cap off, along with her scarf, and tossed them both on her chair. She briefly turned her back on him, shaking her head, confused and silent. When she finally did turn back to him, it was slowly, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. Rose looked up at him for a moment, putting one hand to his cheek and staring into his obsidian, bottomless eyes. She was searching for something...for a clue as to why he was there... It was then she recognized something, lurking in the black pools. "Something's frightened you," she whispered, surprised and awed to read it so clearly there...perhaps she was not as bad a Legilimens as she thought.

She had touched him...he could now touch her back. Severus covered the hand on his cheek with his own; he shuddered and looked momentarily away from her. "They want to see you. I'm supposed to take you to them in one week's time. Persuasion is the preferred method, but if that doesn't work I must drug you, or put you under _Imperius,_ or..." He took in a ragged breath and bent, placing his forehead against hers. "I don't want to lose you again," he whispered.

She wrapped her arms around him, moving to rest her head against his chest, and wishing to sense something else...anything else other than his dread. This was Severus, he was not supposed to show fear; he was a pillar of stoic, solid ice. But her other senses told her the same of his worry; his heart was beating double-time and his body trembled as he wrapped his arms tighter around her.

"Would you protect me from them?" she asked quietly-almost the same question she had asked many years before. She had to ask again. Had to know...

He groaned, burying his face in her hair. "Rose, Rose. I would die rather than allow any of them touch you. I would have, when the Dark Lord—"

"Why didn't you?" she whispered softly, carefully. "In all those arguments we had, after all this time, I still don't understand why you didn't move."

"I don't know," he answered, bitterness tainting the words. "I couldn't—it was as if I had been frozen in place, I couldn't move or think, all I could do was watch and—" he gasped tightly, his breathing became more labored as the memory freshly assaulted him...slipping out of the vaults of his carefully guarded mind, from the mental box where all his moment of pain were hidden to come out only in his nightmares. He tightened his hold on her without realizing it, holding her so close she almost cried out as her ribs began to ache. At last he mastered the memory, locking it away again, not wanting to deal with it-to see it. "You won't go near them." His tone was grim, firm, there would be no argument.

"We need to talk to Dumbledore—"

"No, we don't," he interrupted at once, loosening her enough so that he could look down into her eyes, allowing her to see the resolve in his, wanting to lock her into place with his gaze. "I'm tired of being a pawn for everyone else to play with. Albus Dumbledore will _not _tell me what to do with my own wife, nor will they. You won't go near them. We lost enough the last time—" he cut himself off, looking sick. "We lost so much. I'm tired of being the one to lose, Rose." Bitterness, mixed with sorrow, laced his words. The Potion's Master was melting before her, revealing just a man...uncertain and alone.

"But, Severus—"

"Our daughter," he said ruthlessly. "Our child was murdered before my very eyes, I watched my wife tortured, and they were as much testing my breaking point as the Dark Lord was punishing you. That whole night doesn't make sense, Rose, and I'm convinced there's something else going on here. I don't want you to play into their hands. We _will_ find a way around this, around you going to them."

She felt tears filling her eyes and she moved to burry her face in his shirt. His body was taut with repressed emotions—anger, despair, fear. Rose fought back her own feelings, determined to present to him a strong front. One of them had to do it, and he was too lost... At last she was able to stand away from him, his eyes grew puzzled but held determination as she stepped away. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the baby, Severus. There was so much going on—it was very wrong of me. Severus, do you really love me or is this just...possessiveness? Is it the wizard's debt or are your feelings for me real?" All else rested on this. If she knew, if he would tell her this and she could believe, then all would finally fall into place—she hoped.

He looked into her eyes, seeing the silent need in their emerald depths. He touched her cheek gently, a very light caress, then tucked an errant curl behind her ear. "I have experienced little love in my life, Rose, and I am not very familiar with it. Tell me, do you know for certain you love me?" he asked quietly. His expression was calm, even calculating as it always seemed to be...for the moment Severus Snape had returned, putting away that worried man. He wasn't just asking her a question of emotions, she well knew, but was asking for an explanation-for knowledge, the one thing Severus had always possessed and wanted to possess in abundance.

Rose shivered. "My clothes are damp, Severus. Let me change and then we can talk." She was stalling. She had to get her thoughts in order.

He nodded and stepped away from her, no longer touching her. She turned away, pulled a fresh change of clothes from the wardrobe, and disappeared into the bathroom.

The sound of the sink running also assured him she was taking care of the splatter of mud on her cheek. Severus went to her bed and lowered himself onto the edge of it, his eyes going to a photograph on her bedside table he hadn't noticed before. It was a picture of three little girls—two red-heads and a strawberry blonde, dressed in muggle clothing and grinning at the person behind the camera madly. The picture didn't move, it was also muggle, and Severus recognized Lily and Rose at once. Petunia he had only ever seen in pictures, usually sour faced or looking haughty. But this picture was before Hogwarts days for Lily and Rose, and Petunia looked as innocent and as happy as they did.

He picked up the picture, taking in the details of the background. They were all seated on the floor, a tiled floor probably that of their kitchen, with bowls and cookbooks scattered all about them. Rose had a spot of flour on her nose; Petunia's sweater was covered in the white powder, while Lily was spotless and the only one wearing an apron.

What must it have been like, to grow up in a home where you did not wonder if you were loved? Where you had security, safety, and the ease of happiness?

He sighed and replaced the photograph. Rose was right, he had been badly shaken. While she had gone on her 'outing' with Harry and...Black...Severus had been out on the grounds watching the Slytherin Quidditch team practice. They were brutal players, of course, but at least Malfoy was excelling as a Seeker.

Lucius Malfoy had come up behind him, smiling, assumingly to watch his son practice.

But the conversation he had struck up with Severus had left the Potion's Master very cold.

_"How is the enchanting Defense professor?" Malfoy asked, keeping his eyes on his son. Draco was circling the field looking for the Snitch. "My son tells me her class is somewhat disappointing of late." _

_Severus only glanced at Lucius from the corner of his eye before responding. "Madame Umbridge changed the curriculum to what she thought would be more...age appropriate material. Most classes now bare her mark of ignorance."_

_"Indeed. So Draco tells me." Lucius sighed and shook his head, though his voice was mocking when he continued," The Ministry continues to take hold of that which it does not understand. Dolores Umbridge is the poster-child for them, you know—blissful, cruel ignorance. But she is not my concern at the moment. My concern, Severus, is our dear Rose."_

_Fighting the urge to stiffen, the urge to allow anxiety into his eyes, Severus said calmly "What of her?"_

_"I've been told from an infallible source that she is still hanging between two sides of the board. She stands but a step from either side of what is coming. What have you been doing to insure she ends up...on the right side?" Malfoy now turned, smiling his cold, hard smile at Severus and arching one perfectly manicured, perfectly white eyebrow at the man who was his opposite in many, many ways. "Surely you've interacted with her some if you were able to convince her to join you at my home last weekend."_

_The darker wizard shook his head, slightly. "It's a complicated matter, Lucius. One moment she seems ready to do anything I ask of her, and the next she despises all that is in our joint past." This was true, and Severus knew by experience that telling a slightly twisted truth was better than telling a full-fledged lie. No one could flout the truth, but a lie could be turned over and expose him to a very, very painful consequence. "I am not sure how to proceed yet, but I will find a way—If there is one—to draw her back in."_

_"Will you?" Lucius asked. His cruel smile became harder, firmer, his gray eyes darkened until they were as unrelenting as steel. "Tell me, Potion's Master, where does _your_ loyalty lay? Is it with our esteemed Dark Lord, or the lovely face of a former mate?"_

_Severus tensed now, visibly, and he cursed himself for it. He had known it would only be a matter of time before she was made a test for him—another test for him to pass to prove his unwavering loyalty to the Dark. "Rose is a temptation, Lucius" he answered quietly. "But temptations are often over-come. I know the penalty for leaving the Dark Lord and turning against our Brotherhood a second time. I will do nothing to put myself in a position such as that." This, too, was the truth, but even Lucius knew that it was an open-ended answer. Most Death Eaters could speak riddles around anyone, and Severus—who was especially logical and quick-witted—was perhaps the best among them at such a thing. This was why he was permitted to go on teaching at Hogwarts, even if he claimed he couldn't get at Potter—because they trusted him to match wits against Albus Dumbledore._

'Perhaps not trust,'_ Severus amended to himself as Malfoy weighed his answer in his mind._

_Apparently Lucius Malfoy was satisfied with that. "There is a job for you then," he said quietly. "I was to take it if you were...found lacking..." He spun his walking stick at his side, and then pretended to examine the silver head, where an 'M' announced him proudly. "Next week. Place eleven. Time twelve. Our Lord wants her there for...questioning."_

_Not trusting himself to speak, Severus only nodded once-curtly. He summoned his voice when Malfoy waited, obviously having more to say if Severus would just ask the right question. "I will do what I can. How is she to be brought?"_

_"Of her own free will, if possible. If not...whatever you can think of without harming her is acceptable." Lucius flipped out a silver pocket watch, checked the time, before snapping it closed. His smile reminded the wizard standing next to him of a reptile—hungry, cold, unsatisfied. "I will see you both then. I must be on my way now."_

_Severus murmured his own farewell. As soon as Lucius was out of sight, going towards the main gates so he could apparate away, Severus hurried as quickly as he could into the castle. Rose would not be back yet, this he knew, but he was in her chambers quickly. He would not leave them until she returned. He must make certain she was completely safeguarded—_

_He would not yield her to them a second time._

"Severus, are you all righ?t" Rose asked, bringing him back to the present. She had changed into black, cotton draw-string pants and a dark green jumper. Her hair, slightly damp still, was for once completely loose and hanging down her back past her shoulder-blades in thick, lovely auburn ringlets. She was frowning slightly, worry rested in her eyes. She lowered herself onto the bed beside him when he did not answer right away and laid her head against his shoulder. "You're never one to stop brooding easily, are you"?

One of his arms snaked around her shoulders, holding her carefully to him. He swallowed once, then whispered, "I'm frightened for you."

"I know you are, Severus. But our actions are not our own any more; we really don't have a choice now. We must speak to Dumbledore about this problem."

He nodded, reluctantly, then groaned and turned to press his lips into her hair. "I can't lose you, Rose. It would be my undoing."

She shuddered as his words encircled her in momentary, protective warmth. "Do you want to know what love is, Severus?" she whispered quietly. Pulling slightly away from him she looked deeply into his black eyes—which were open to her, filled with uncertainty, warmth, and yet a determination as well.

"Tell me," he said, hoarsely, reaching to cup her face in one hand. "Because I doubt either of us will make it out of this alive until we really understand it."

* * *

**_QUESTION_**: Is anyone else having problems with QuickEdit?

Hopefully not too fluffy for die-hard Dark Severus fans. We'll see.

_SNEAK PREVIEW_: _Memories_ are finally shared, between Rose and Severus, in the coming chapter, and their childhood is briefly explored in _The Attic_. Then, with lemon drops and a twinkle in his eye, comes _Dumbledore's Advice_.

To My Esteemed Reviewers:

Many thanks to LadyLuck321, Evil Duckie, kiss-of-cuteness, Lydia, Arashi7 (Occlumency lessons coming up soon), heather (sorry about the 'drawling Severus'—I'm from the South, it's a habit to put that in as an adjective), Black Sheep Alone, nabenabe, and Illume. Y'all are AWESOME.

Thank you for the continued reviews! They make my day!

**_-JB-_**


	12. Memories

**_Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm_**

_By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large_

**IMPORTANT Note**Apologies for taking so long to get this out. I have been hit with the accursed ailment known as **Mid-Term Exams**. (Shakes fist at Higher-Education.) Should be back to normal in another week or so. Enjoy this chapter! **Also, this is a chapter of more Memories. You sometimes have to go back before you can go forward.**

**Beta**: Foggy Librarian (also cursed with Mid-Term Exams)

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

**_CHAPTER TWELVE: Memories_**

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Albus Dumbledore had lectured his closest acquaintances for years about love, and the powers it held. There was nothing, he often told people, as strong and as magical as love. He was one of the few wizards alive who had ever entered one of the most secret rooms in the Department of Mysteries as well, the room which contained Love. Why he had entered that room no one knew, but no one questioned him about such high-priority clearance either. It had been nearly a century since he had glimpsed pure, unadulterated love in that room.

_"Love is a power which no mortal can comprehend...until they experience it," he had whispered to Rose, many years ago, before sending her away from Hogwarts, Britain, and her old life._

In those days, Rose had thought she knew what love was. She had thought she loved Severus Snape with all her heart, completely and totally devoting herself to him. But had she?

_"Love is trust," a voice echoed in her mind. "Love is giving yourself to someone else, giving them power over you and not fearing what they will do with it-only accepting their right to that power."_

Love was...complicated.

"Severus," she murmured to the man seated next to her. They were both perched on the edge of her bed. "I don't know how to explain this to you." She sighed, then looked at him from the corner of her brilliant green eyes. "I'm not sure if there really is a way to understand love."

He laid back on her bed to stare morosely at the canopy above. "Then how do I prove myself to you?" he whispered, sounding frustrated. "How do we know...? Or should we know? Love must exist, Rose. There must be another side to hate, the opposite side of that coin—"

Rose lay down as well, curling up next to him. She rested her head against his shoulder and slid one arm around his narrow waist. "I love you," she murmured softly. "And I know I do because my heart has ached every moment I've been away from you; I have regretted leaving you. And...if it came to it, Severus, I would go through all of our horrible past again, and again, to have this chance with you today. When I am with you I am at ease, and I am complete." Her eyes stayed trained on the canopy as well, her soft breathing evidence of the calm she felt in the storm of emotions and events around them.

"I do want to protect you," he said quietly, "to possess you. I admire you, and desire you..." his voice grew husky with repressed feelings, things he was trying to keep in check. "I tried not to think about you when you...died. But..." Severus put a hand to his heart carefully, his eyes narrowed.

_Should I show her the ring...?_

She sighed and put one hand to his cheek, carefully touching his pale, smooth skin. "I missed your sarcasm, your dark humor..." she murmured, smirking. "Your irritating, superior attitude about _every_thing. Did you miss me?"

Rose sounded like such a little girl, such a child, as she asked that.

"Greatly," Severus answered, turning his head to meet her level, heavy gaze with his own. "Your laughter, your ability to make me smile. Your acceptance."

"Maybe you do love me, then."

"Maybe," he agreed, half-smiling. "The Dark Lord doesn't, though. Rose, one week isn't a lot of time to come up with something."

"Which is why we need to talk to—"

"Dumbledore," he interrupted darkly.

"Severus, we don't have much of a choice."

He clasped her hand in his and brought it to rest against his lips briefly before murmuring, "I'm tired of being everyone else's game piece. I want to make my own decisions."

"Nothing says we have to follow Dumbledore's instructions," she said, sounding only slightly hopeful. "We are our own masters, Severus."

Silence fell between them, but it was a warm, peaceful silence. He continued to hold her hand, running his thumb gently over the back of it, loving the feel of her skin. "Rose."

"Yes?"

"I have a confession to make." The way he said the words caused her to brace herself.

"All right."

He turned on his side, propping himself up with his arm. His black eyes met hers, and the obsidian pools were swirling with thoughts, with memories. He brought the tips of her fingers carefully to her jaw, stroking her there, noting every curve of her face with eyes and hands. "I never realized I could want to be a father, until that chance was taken from me. I never really...had a family the way other people did; to start my own with you, to _experience_ that, would have been more than I ever hoped for."

For a brief moment Rose felt an emptiness inside of her—the same she had felt in the weeks after Voldemort had stolen the life from within her. She quickly banished the feeling, it was too dangerous now for her to examine, and she was able to relax. "We were so young and foolish." Her voice had an inflection in it—there was still pain for her loss in some hidden corner of her heart. But looking into his eyes, watching those emotions surface, then hide again, brought her a new awareness. A feeling rose within her, crowding into her throat and behind her eyes.

It wasn't just _her_ loss, she realized, feeling very small and selfish. It had been _his_ as well. _His._

He was looking into her eyes; there was a question between the two of them.

"Would you like to know...about everything? Everything, I mean, that happened before the Dark Lord...?" Rose shrugged, helplessly. "I'll let you look."

His eyes widened, briefly. Hope flickered, then died. He did not dare hope for much these days. "Would you?"

"Yes, Severus. You should know, after all these years..." She moved away from him, sitting up against her headboard, concentrating her thoughts. "I've been practicing Occlumency, you know. Just...arranging thoughts in my mind, boxing memories up, nothing extensive. I'm not sure how I'd stand against you, a very-well learned Legilimens..." It remained unspoken, though it hung between them... _Or__ how I'd stand against the Dark Lord again. _

She cleared her throat before saying, "You could know what it was like...for just a minute...the pregnancy...how I felt. And what happened after."

He sat up completely, at the foot of the bed, leaving some space between them.

"It would be easier for me," she added quietly, "if we were touching."

Physical contact did, indeed, make the bond for a Legilimens easier. He moved closer and took up both her hands in his, trying to calm his own thoughts and set his mind in order to receive her memories. He looked directly into her glimmering green eyes, steadying himself and tightening his grip upon her hands. "I will only look at what you put before me," he promised quietly. She only nodded, and then... _"Leglimens!"_

_.in.memory._

A young Rose, perhaps just eighteen years old, stood in the cellar of her home looking anxiously into a small vile of clear liquid. She glanced down at the potions book before her, open to a page which read, 'To know for certain if you have conceived, you must add a piece of yourself to the now complete potion. Anything will suffice, be it a strand of hair or a flake of skin...' She carefully lowered a single strand of her auburn hair into the liquid, then braced herself, praying for it to turn no color at all.

A noise from the kitchen above startled her, she quickly put the vial into a small beaker holder and snapped the book before her shut.

Cursing and muttering to himself, Severus descended the cellar steps into the laboratory and went straight to a table where he had left several of his own potions stoppered and bottled up. He cast a glance at her, unsmiling. "More demands," he growled out, then turned back to his bottles.

"Anything serious?" she asked, stepping forward hesitantly. It had been some time since they had been permitted to speak freely of his activities—

"Can't say," he responded coolly. He swept up a vial, finally, of green liquid. "No dinner tonight," he added over his shoulder before disappearing up the steps and leaving the cottage again.

Sighing, and pushing back the childish urge to throw something against the wall, Rose turned back to look at her potion.

It was a startling shade of vivid, bright blue.

She was pregnant.

_.in.memory._

They were in their bedroom, arguing again about the war, about their duties to the Dark Lord. "I don't trust anyone with certain things, Rose, and I've been told not to make you privy to many things. It's part of the job," he growled out, coming around the bed to stand before her. "It's part of the situation that we're in."

"Really?" Rose lifted her chin and glared up at him—lightning flashed outside, briefly illuminating the room fully. "I'm sick of this situation, Severus. I'm sick of doing things I feel guilty about later, listening to the self-absorbed, bickering Death Eaters plan their take-over of the world. Most of all, I'm tired of secrets!"

"Are you?" Severus asked, stepping closer to cup her chin in the palm of his hand, gazing deep into her shadowed eyes. "Than why are you still hiding something from me? Every time I look into your eyes I sense a secret there_. Every time."_ Anger laced his words, his hand slid slowly up to her cheek, his fingers ran through her hair as he ground out, between his teeth, "What are you hiding from me?" His touch was gentle, his words were harsh.

Rose pulled away. "Nothing important. You'll figure it out sooner or later anyway." She walked to one of the windows to stare out at the storm. "You won't like it, either." Her heart was aching, crying out to be understood, begging for peace.

_.in.memory._

She was curled up in bed, alone again that night, crying softly into her pillow. Emptiness haunted her, though she became increasingly aware of the life within her.

_How?_ she thought. _I took the contraceptive. By rights there should be no child._

But did she wish the babe away?

_No. I need him...or her... I won't be alone anymore..._

_.in.memory._

Rose was in Diagon Alley, moving quietly and wretchedly among the shadows, on her way home after making a few small purchases. She felt sick to her stomach; it was an ever-present nausea that kept her quiet and barely eating these days. Everything seemed to make her sick.

A body suddenly formed before her and Rose was jolted out of her thoughts as she stopped in her tracks to glare up at whoever had put himself deliberately in her way. She was ready to immediately cut down any attempt at unwanted flirtation when—

"If it isn't my sister!" James Potter was grinning, boyishly, down at her and out of nowhere came his arms to envelope her in a brotherly embrace. "Rose, Rose! So good to see you on this wonderful day!"

"Have you lost your mind!" she demanded, pulling her dark red cloak back around herself.

"No," he responded blithely. "But I've found a whole new calling in life! I'm happier than I've ever been. Isn't it wonderful?" he asked, grinning like an idiot. He quickly took in her blank expression and laughed. "But you don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

Rose shook her head. "No. Should I?" She glanced around quickly, making certain none of her darker acquaintances were within view.

"I'm sorry for that. Lily and I have been so busy—and we have to be careful who we write to nowadays. It's lucky I saw you so I can tell you the news; Lily and I just had a baby! We're parents! And you're an aunt!" he exclaimed, taking her by the arm and dragging her down the walk.

Their conversation remained short, though the impressions of it were strongest in the memory. Disappointment, envy, wishing she was in Lily's place once again. Inwardly the young witch was crushed, the realization of her own pregnancy hit her hard at that moment. She doubted Severus would be as happy as James was to find he was a father, and she doubted anything about her child would cause happiness. Her baby would more than likely be born in the shadows of the Dark Lord's people, her baby wouldn't grow up with parents as open, honest, and loving as James and Lily Potter were. She knew they would be perfect parents. After all, Lily and James were perfect at everything.

She began to argue with James.

The very young, confused, hurting witch lashed out, wanting him to just go away and leave her, and her pathetic life, alone. "Maybe Lily _is_ my problem! Tell her that and see what she makes of it! She hasn't bothered to contact me in months, why should I care to go and see her? And her brat who'll probably be as much of an arrogant prig as his father!"

At first the shock was evident in his expression, but his face quickly changed to convey a look of anger and indignation. "That's a hateful thing to say, Rose Evans—"

"Snape," she hissed, glowering up at him. "Rose Snape. You remember, Snivellus's wife?"

_.in.memory._

Voldemort's image appeared before her, hissing threats and quiet words that still haunted Severus. It came to the final moment, the moment when Severus had learned he could have been a father—the moment when that opportunity was ruthlessly stripped away from him. Wind howled in his ears as Rose's memory went on to that horrible moment in their history...

"If you will not give me your sister's child, Rose," Voldemort said with a careless shrug. "Then you will give me yours." He had found that secret, her greatest secret, so very easily.

Before Rose could do more than turn, looking over her shoulder and into her husband's shocked, wide eyes, with a silent plea in her own dark green eyes, she felt an incredible pain fill her body. She heard a scream—it was not hers or any persons, but it was the scream of the dark, evil magic that the Dark Lord poured into her.

Rose fell to the earth, at the foot of Thomas Riddle's grave. She tried to scream and could not, she could only writhe in agony on the ground, only aware of the pain and the sudden burning within her abdomen. Life was taken from inside of her.

One moment she could feel the heartbeat of another, barely formed, and the next there was a block of ice within her. She clawed at the ground, not seeing, not feeling anything but pain.

Running through her mind was the repetitive cry of a child and her own voice, screaming in her head. _'My baby!__ Severus! Help me! My baby, my baby!' _Over and over, along with the pain.

And Severus Snape stood still, horror written all over his features.

_He did not move._

_.in.memory._

They had argued, again and again. She had screamed at him, finally at the breaking point, "I hate you!"

The days and weeks which followed were lonely. Severus Snape never came home. Rose cried herself to sleep. She went out looking for him, keeping to the shadows of alley ways, quietly probing for information about her husband.

He didn't contact her. She couldn't find him.

She was alone again, without even the distant hope of alleviating that.

Alone.

_.in.memory._

Kind, wizened blue eyes glittered with sorrow, staring into the young eyes of Rose Snape. Albus Dumbledore's office was quiet, peaceful and calm. He regarded the young witch in front of him as a father would. He smiled a little. "I didn't know who else to turn to," the young woman before him whispered. "I didn't know what to do."

He looked up, carefully and quickly taking in her appearance before saying a word. She was pale, her face was narrow and her cheekbones showed sharply through her skin. There was no color to her, even her eyes which had once been a dark, lovely green were now dim and empty. Her hands trembled where they rested in her lap, her wrists were too narrow. Limp, auburn hair fell down her back and was not all the glossy, lustier silk it had once been. She looked like a woman twice her age, or much older. And it did not take Legilimency to see that her heart had been shattered.

"I believe your story," Dumbledore said, softly. "And I can see your pain clearly in your eyes. My dear Rose, you have suffered enough." He came around the desk and took one hand out of her lap and held it carefully.

_.in.memory._

"Florida," Rose whispered, wincing. "It's so far away." She was in the Headmaster's office again, though this was a different memory.

"Exactly," Albus Dumbledore said softly. "Outside of the range I predict Voldemort has laid down for his followers. But you're not just going to Florida, my dear. You're going to the Ever Glades. A beautiful, dangerous place that at times is other worldly. At times it is other worldly. I have a friend there, a very dear friend, who will know how best to help you."

The young witch looked down at her lap, then at her thin hands. "And I will hide?"

"You will _grow_," he corrected, offering her a sad smile.

She swallowed again. "How long?"

"Until you feel you must come back here. You are the only one who will know when you are ready. I will correspond with you, I will tell you what goes on here. But, from what you've said, the Death Eaters will not give up so easily on you."

"They'll hunt me down," she agreed, quietly. "They'll kill me. Torture me. I don't know what else they might do to me." She smiled, bitterly. "And no one will stop them."

_.out.of.memory._

Her memories trickled away, leaving Severus in a black, quiet silence. He blinked and focused his attention on the present, on the woman in front of him. Rose looked at him quietly, tears falling down her cheeks. She was trembling; her hands which he held shook horribly. "Severus," she whispered, shaking her head. "There's so much pain in our past. What are we going to do?"

He brought one of her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to her fingers. When he met her eyes again she watched in wonder as a single, salty tear fell from his eye. She could not remember ever seeing him cry, he had always been so strong and had emotional shields that were without cracks or faults. But there, in that moment, Severus looked as heartbroken as she had felt for so many years.

He met her eyes; he sent her a quiet memory.

_A much younger Severus Snape, without the tired look in his eyes or lines on his face, sat in the train compartment across from Rose. It was raining outside. The scent of fresh earth and wind was all around them. He was nervous. Severus put a hand in a pocket of his robes, withdrew the box, and tossed it onto her lap. "You're expected to wear it." It was a statement, not a question. She would be his._

_Rose arched one of her delicate eyebrows at him, appearing slightly suspicious, and began to open the box. His heart flew up into his throat; he found it hard to breath. She looked shocked when she saw what was inside, her eyes widened, her expression then darkened. The compartment fell silent except for the sound of rain hitting the window as the train raced down the tracks._

Rose smiled at him and reached out to gently stroke his cheek. "I remember that, Severus," she said quietly. "It is one of my happiest memories."

Severus smiled, sadness still in his obsidian, endlessly dark eyes, reflecting the turmoil of his soul. "I was a fool, Rose. I'm still a fool."

"I won't argue that point with you," she teased, brushing at her own tears and trying to smile. "We both had a lot of growing up to do. We both needed time and space apart. Maybe things are better this way." She looked across the room, to the hourglass on her mantel. "We completely missed dinner."

"I don't care."

"You never do, Severus, but some of us get hungry once in a while." Rose sighed and looked down where one of her hands was still joined with his. "Perhaps you'd like to go get something with me...?"

"I have a better idea." He left the bed, but tugged her along with him. "Come with me, I have a...what's the word..." He smirked at her, knowingly, and there was just a hint of teasing in his voice. "A _surprise_ for you."

"Shouldn't I put on more suitable clothes?" She gestured to her cotton trousers and baggy sweater.

"No. You're perfect just the way you are." He bent and kissed her brow, enjoying the look of confusion in her emerald green eyes. "Come." Something like excitement bubbled up within him. He pulled her to her floo, he cast the powder kept on the hearth into it and whispered a destination that she could not hear. Then they stepped into the flames and were jerked through green fires. During the brief journey his hand never left hers, and Rose found herself trusting in him. She was safe, for the moment, in his grasp.

But she was not expecting to stumble out of the hearth, into his open arms, and find herself in a very familiar place...

* * *

I hope that was worth the wait.

**_Sneak Preview of Next Chapter Only_**: I'm not writing as far in advance as I would like anymore, due to evil Mid-Terms. I reiterate what I said before about the next chapter…. "With Twinkling Eyes and Lemon Drops comes Albus _Dumbledore's Advice_." Trust me. I love the headmaster in the next chapter. And we finally learn why he's always trying to give people sweets….

**To My Reviewers**: I think I'm losing reviewers. -( So sad. Individual responses today! Yay!

Mistressofhorses: Glad you liked the last puff, and I hope you stay tuned for most angst-ridden fluff!

Arashi7: I'm glad you enjoyed the Valentine's Day fluffiness of the last chapter. I agree with you, Severus needs some happiness too. I'm with you on hating Malfoy. Actually…talking about burning his blonde hair gives me a few wicked ideas for coming chapters. Mind if I use it?

LadyLuck321: Sorry! I hope you didn't hang on those tenderhooks for very long. They can be painful!

Evil Duckie: Here's your update! And more of the 'helpless' Severus in this chapter. He gets a little more self-assured in a bit, though. Tsk.

Writer Chica: Thank you for pointing out the flaw in the last chapter. (smiles). I'll make certain to change that in the re-write I plan to do once I finish the story.

Kiss-of-cuteness: A lot of people have been talking to me about 'passionate' Snape lately. I agree that he has moments which reveal his TRULY passionate nature. I love Snape.

Knights of Ne: Nice to meet you! Glad you're here!

Heather (1): Me? Angsty fic-writing? NEVER! (cough)lying(cough). You'll just have to wait and see.

Giugliana: Am I going to include Umbridge as the Headmistress? Let me ask you this: would it be any fun if I didn't?

Lydia: You must really hate me by now. -( Tomorrow I'll have an hour in the school library and my exams will be OVER. I plan to devote that hour to writing you. Forgive me! And THANK YOU for loving 'my' Severus still.

Black Sheep Alone: Smoochie? Severus Snape doesn't SMOOCH people. He kisses them with tenderness/passion/longing/hope/etc. No smoochies. Just ardent portrayals of deep emotion. (cackles evilly) And y'all have to wait a little while more for that.

Nabenabe: Stay tuned, more romantic build-up ahead.

Illume: Re-hashing. Hopefully this answered some of the reasoning behind Snape's terror for Rose. He knows something isn't write—the amount of interest the Death Eaters are putting into her is scary enough, without remembering that Voldemort stole their baby, ruined their love (indirectly) in the past, and is now resurfacing to do the same in turbulent times. Severus is, basically, having a really bad day.

Heather (2): We haven't heard the last of what Severus thinks of that paw-print…or Sirius….

Morgan Mayfair: You seem very familiar, from your screen name. Glad you approve of my direction, now sit back and enjoy the ride!

Love you all! You keep me going!

**_-JB-_**


	13. The Attic

**_Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm_**

_By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large_

**IMPORTANT Note: **I messed up when I told y'all that Dumbledore's advice was in this chapter. That's the NEXT chapter. So sorry! This chapter is more fluff. We'll get angsty again soon.

**Beta**: Foggy Librarian

**Reviews**: THANK YOU! The last chapter received enough reviews to greatly boost my spirit!

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

**_CHAPTER THIRTEEN: The Attic_**

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Rose stood there, within the circle of Severus's arms, looking about her with unconcealed surprise and wonder. The room she stood in with her husband was quiet, and appeared almost unaltered since she had last seen it.

It was the main room of their little cottage, which she instantly knew despite the only light being that from the fire behind them and the half-moon through the window. There were white coverings over the furniture—like the drop cloths a painter would use to prevent damage to couches and tables. But the room was fully furnished, the carpets that normally covered the floors were rolled up and moved carefully away from the walls. "Repainted?" Rose asked absently, stepping further into the room.

"Just last week," Severus confirmed. "I had things refreshed, mostly. I tried to stay with the original colors we...you picked out."

She smiled to herself, but did not turn to share the expression with him. Despite the relative chill to cottage she felt a warmth in her chest which slowly spread outward. "So it's all the same?" she asked quietly. She put her hand to a doorway and put her head inside—the bedroom, dark, but the familiar feeling about it had not changed.

He had not moved from where he stood, he was watching her back, the way she cocked her head to the side when she inspected the bedroom. "Mostly. Time called for some adjustments—curtains, replanting the garden... I hired people from the village to come and do the regular cleaning and chores, and a few experts from the city last week. I wanted to..." he halted, fumbled for words as they slipped from him. He felt his chest constrict, he wanted to shrink within himself. _What was I thinking? Why did I bring her here?_

Rose threw a glance at him over her shoulder, her green eyes sparkling brightly, and a half smile tilted her lips upward. "I'm glad you've kept it, Severus." She arched one eyebrow at him and shook her head. "Though I can't understand why. I never imagined you to be so...sentimental."

His usual dark scowl appeared; he crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at her. "My dear, there are a lot of things about me I doubt you could imagine."

She turned and mirrored his stance, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes in a perfect imitation of the wizard. "Oh, Severus, there are a lot of things I..._imagine_...involving you," she whispered, her tone softened to a purr.

It took him a moment to realize his jaw had popped open and remained that way, stunned by her saucy flirtation and the obvious innuendo in her words.

Her laughter bubbled up and out, filling the quiet cottage with a warm—though fragile—joy. She put her arms out and twirled around with a bright grin she hadn't worn since her days at Hogwarts as a student. "It's marvelous, though! This was such a good place to us—to me, to you." She practically danced across the room to him and grasped his arm in both her hands. "Let's go look at the laboratory! Or the study—did you ever fill those shelves with books? The kitchen—"

"The attic," he interrupted as the corners of his mouth twitched and tilted upward and his own obsidian eyes reflected her mirth back to her. "From top to bottom."

"The attic?" She blinked at him, looking momentarily confused. "Did I ever even go in the attic? I think I put my old school trunk up there. There was only a little junk—"

But he cut off her words when he caught her around the waist and tugged her with him. "You'd be surprised what kind of junk has accumulated up there over all the years. Come." Now his own smile was full, though his eyes were narrowed and did not lock long with hers. Only moments before he had felt foolish for bringing her back to their old home, their quiet nest. Now however there was a feeling growing inside him which defied his darker side and the shadows of his nightmares, bringing a little boy from the corner where he hid from the world and allowed him to grow _excited._

"Severus," said the woman, now feeling more and more like a little girl, around a laugh. "What on earth is up there?"

"You'll see," he responded, shooting a wolfish grin over his shoulder at her. _"Lumos_!" His wand lit their way to the kitchen and into a pantry, where he pulled a ladder down from the ceiling. Severus hurried up and she followed close behind.

She entered the attic and looked up as her head cleared the trapdoor. Severus was all ready standing, using his wand to light little candles on an old end table. "Come in," he said, glancing down to her. He reached his hand out and she took it, coming up the final steps to glance around herself with an excited expression upon her face. She felt quite ten years younger.

"Now what?" she asked, looking around. "What's up here?" Trunks, crates, bits of furniture. Nothing of much interest, though she noticed the place was not dusty. He must have ordered the entire cottage cleaned, top to bottom, to achieve that.

"Secrets," Severus answered, still smiling, though his shoulders now drooped a little and the gaiety was beginning to seep from him. He looked away from her, his profile revealing his uncertainty. His body, though tense and coiled as it ever was—poised to attack or defend—hesitated before he dropped down in front of a battered old black trunk.

Rose came and knelt beside him, smiling gently. "I'm very good at keeping secrets," she whispered. "I promise I am."

He didn't look at her, but tapped the trunk with his wand. His lips were pressed into a thin, expressionless line. The trunk opened, revealing scattered papers lying on top of his old robes, and on top of the papers...

Rose lifted a perfectly preserved black rosebud. But the petals looked ragged, the stem had been snapped, and yet the bloom itself looked as if it had been trimmed from a bush but yesterday. "Regret," Rose whispered, remembering a Valentine's Day from long before. "The black rose is a symbol of dishonesty, regret, shame, pain. Depression." Her fingers touched the petals, bespelled to stay forever soft and velvety. "Is this the rose from...?"

"Your unknown admirer," he answered, his expression unreadable as he stared into the open trunk. "The last day, when he—_I_—stood you up."

"It was _you_?" she gasped, her eyes widening. "Lily always thought it was," she blurted.

His eyes snapped to hers, his eyes narrowed. "She did?"

"Why didn't you ever tell me, Severus?" she whispered, but even as he opened his mouth to respond her hand flew up to cover it. "Forget I asked that. I don't care why you didn't tell me—you're telling me now. We've got to stop living in the past, right?"

He calmly reached up and took her hand from his mouth, running his thumb over her palm as he took it in both of his own. "I'm sorry, Rose."

Rose looked away, though she smiled and kept her hand in his. "What other fun little secrets do you have up here?" She knew exactly how much an apology cost someone like Severus Snape, and while such a sacrifice shouldn't be treated lightly she knew over-acknowledging it just might make him withdraw again.

"Hm." He moved aside a few things in his trunk and then smiled triumphantly as he pulled a cubed object from the scattered bits of his sparse childhood. "Remember this?"

"Of course!" She took the Rubix Cube from him and turned it over, withdrawing her hand from his as she examined it. "Did you ever play with it? Or did you actually solve it?"

"I've solved it twice. And I only cheated the first time."

She started to laugh and he joined her, but Rose narrowed her eyes and turned her back to him. He paused, about to question her, but she dropped backwards and allowed her head to land in his lap as she began to shift the cube, turning layers here and there. "Want to know one of my secrets?" she asked, her long, thin fingers still playing with the toy. She looked up at him, her view of him upside down.

A part of him wondered if this moment was real—they were so carefree, so quiet in their own world, it was as if nothing of a cruel or dark nature was in their past. He could almost imagine they had always been this way, comfortable with each other, in a calm and set-apart world. "Tell me your secret," he agreed, smiling lazily down at her as one of his hands moved to brush her bangs away from her forehead. "I'm good at keeping them, too."

"Dad bought a lot of the Rubix stocks," she answered, her eyes on the toy. "Harry inherited Lily's share, which she kept in a Muggle bank. I'm sure Dumbledore knows how to get it for him. I think Vernon Dursley talked Petunia into selling hers—he would have thought it foolishness in the first place. But I still have my share."

"Really? Has it amounted to much?" Severus asked, only slightly interested. He had enjoyed the toy and the logic he had employed to 'solve' it had been an interesting mind exercise. But it was still just a toy, and a Muggle one at that.

"Yes, Severus. It's amounted to...well..." She turned an impish smile up to him. "What would you say if I told you you were married to a millionaire? And that's just the _Rubix_ stock...Dad had a lot of other little wild ideas, you know."

Severus gaped at her. "You're...wealthy?"

She narrowed her eyes and smirked, a very Slytherin expression in this instance. "Very."

He backed away from her so quickly, and she had not been at all expecting it, that her head hit the floor with an audible 'crack!' "Ow!" she moaned, sitting up and rubbing at the back of her head.

He just stared at her. "When...? For how long...?"

Rose glared at him, and she tossed the toy back at him. "Merlin's beard, Severus! If the change in my financial status repels you so—" The cube hit his chest, but he did not move as it then tumbled to the floor.

He continued to stare at her with shock. "Just how rich are you?"

"Does it matter?" she asked, sighing. Rose closed the trunk and went to another—hers. She flipped it open and began to rummage through it, not looking up, despite herself hurt by his reaction. She didn't understand, knew she probably couldn't, all the reasons behind his actions and emotions. "Oh, look!" She pulled a faded, dark green scarf from her trunk. "You gave this to me for Christmas one year, remember?" She didn't wait for an answer but wrapped it around her neck, digging further into her past belongings. "There's so much here...from when we were children." Had she been wrong to reveal that to him? Should she have waited for a better time? But waiting...waiting to tell secrets had always proven disastrous for them both.

Severus's arms came around her waist, pulling her back against him. At first she was stiff, not expecting his touch, but then she relaxed into him. She felt his lips on the back of her head, where she was sure a bump was beginning to grow. "Does it hurt?"

"It's throbbing," she answered. "Severus, why can't anything ever be easy for us?" She turned in his arms and rested her cheek against his chest, sighing. "I shouldn't have sprung the money on you that way. You should know it doesn't mean much to me...I've never really touched it. I don't even know what to do with it all."

"I was just surprised," he murmured, kissing her forehead lightly. "And stung. I could never provide for you in that magnitude. You do know I only have a teacher's paycheck." But did he? Severus had...projects always going on in the background, always trying to get ahead... It wasn't a lie, he told himself. Nothing, none of his investments, had yielded anything other than hope so far.

"The money from the Rubix cube, and the other investments, was a gift from my father, Severus. My inheritance from him. I never expected it to grow to what it has, and I do not expect you to compete with it. Besides, I'm a teacher too, you know. I don't need you to provide for me." She offered him a smile, leaning back slightly from his embrace. "How long have you been wearing jewelry?"

He blinked at her, for a moment surprised by the turn of conversation and it took a heartbeat for her question to register. His hand went reflexively to the slight lump in the center of his chest. "Since you left me."

"Oh." She touched the lump with one finger. "What is it?"

"A reminder..." he answered, his eyes shifting to avoid hers. She was not a Legilimens, of course, but it was natural for him to look away with his knowledge of just how much the eyes could convey. Even he acknowledged the age old saying...the eyes were the windows to the soul. He was not ready to tell her this yet—not yet.

Rose put her hand to his cheek and gently stroked the skin beneath his dark eyes. "Of what, Severus? Of me?"

"Yes."

She turned back to her trunk, moving away from him. He missed the warmth of her smaller body next to his immediately, but turned his attention to the noise of her rummaging through her things. "Look...our werewolf notebook!" She pulled it out and handed it to him. "Proof of your brilliance."

"And the patience of my partner in medicinal magic." He flipped the pages of the old notebook, smiling. "You always had to doodle along the edges." He turned the paper to her, pointing to a character drawing of their old Potions professor. "Couldn't simply be dictated to—had to fill the pauses with all sorts of things." He turned the page and gestured again to a doodle of a broom, and stick figures dancing upon the borders of the page.

She shrugged and smiled. "Would you have me any other way?"

"Not at all."

"Good." She closed up her trunk then stood and went further into the attic. "Where did all this furniture come from?"

"The previous occupants, I suppose, didn't take everything with them. Most of it is run down, old. I need to dispose of it but haven't taken the time."

She gasped, and immediately he was on his own feet and beside her, concerned. "What is it?" He took her shoulders in his hands and looked over the top of her head.

"Isn't it lovely?" She ran her hand along the elegantly polished wood, the curves along the sides of the exquisite piece. "Look at the detail." Rose knelt and narrowed her eyes, studying carvings of stars and moons, and ribbons dancing around them all, etched into the wood with care.

Severus looked at the cradle almost suspiciously. He certainly hadn't noticed that piece of furniture before. He touched it, and put a little pressure on it. Obligingly, the antique cradle rocked softly back and forth without so much as squeaking. "I've never seen it before."

Rose shook her head and reached inside. "I don't suppose you would've noticed it—you're a _man_, after all." She pulled out a quilt, carefully folded and tucked inside the cradle for who knew how many years... She unfolded the blanket, and it was only slightly faded from age. The colors, brilliant blues and silver against a black background, showed the winter night sky. "Beautiful." She stood again beside him, wrapping the quilt experimentally around her shoulders. "This will look perfect on the foot of my bed back at the school."

"Back at the school," he repeated, running a hand through his silky black hair. "We have a lot to deal with tomorrow, Rose."

"I know. We'll need to talk to Dumbledore, I still have to tell you about my day with Harry, there's that Umbridge woman to deal with...and I'm still hungry."

Smirking at her, Severus shrugged and looked again around the attic. "We barely even started exploring."

"It will take all night to look at everything, and to remember everything," she responded. "And that's just for the attic. There's an entire house downstairs, and I am dying to go through the books in the study. I'm sure the shelves are full to bursting. And the laboratory!" Rose sighed. "So much to see. We'll have to save it for later."

Later. An allusion to their possible future, a hint at what they might have. "Do you still...? That is, we both live at the school now. I only hung on to this place because it appealed to me more than taking a flat over the summer..."

"If you're asking me whether or not I want to keep the cottage, the answer is yes." She stood on tip-toe and brushed his lips with a brief kiss, only a taste of her, only a small show of her appreciation. "I'm glad you brought me here tonight. But, really Severus, if you _wanted_ me to starve to death—"

He chuckled and nodded towards the ladder. "Go on down. I'll extinguish the candles and follow you."

She scooped up the Rubix cube from the floor, as well as the rose, as both items had been left out. In a moment her head disappeared from the attic doorway, and he followed closely behind.

* * *

So sorry that my last sneak preview was misleading. I promise this one is accurate! I'm mostly back on the ball now. Writing fanfic for another genre (Young Blades, formerly of PAX television, has now been CANCELED and I am in mourning for it…it was such an awesome show….) really helped me get through my writer's block.

**Sneak Preview**: Coming next week is _Dumbledore's Advice_, in which the Headmaster's fixation with lemon drops is explained. After that you'll be reading all about _Harry's Occlumency Lesson_, with Rose sitting in. Then comes _Charming_, in which Rose and Severus work through an experimental spell.

To My Kind Reviewers:

**LadyLuck321**: Thank you, I'm glad you like Severus and find him to be remaining in character!

**Chexbb**: Welcome aboard! I'm receiving conflicting messages about keeping things within OotP or going my own way. Hm. Hopefully I fulfill both needs with the coming chapters. (evil grin.)

**Egad**: I love your name, by the way! So much fun! 'Not all fluffy and shmoopy,' eh? What exactly is 'shmoopy?' As for J.K. getting in touch with me…I can dream, right?

**Lydia**: I think Canon Dumbledore has been inside the 'Love' Chamber, yes. He tells Harry about it in such a way that he's got to know EXACTLY what's inside, in my opinion. Darn that wedding ring that keeps coming up…whatever will happen to that lovely jewel? (cackles) Thank you for being so kind about our correspondence. Things are beginning to look up!

**Writer Chica**: Thank you! Foggy told me she had to drop your story, along with a couple of others. :-( I was sorry to hear that. I'm even trying to take a load off that poor Beta. Well, I hope you liked this chapter! Do review, dear!

**Nabenabe**: Faithful reviewers! I AM glad I have y'all! Glad you liked the angst, I actually thought it was more fluffy than angsty. Hm. Well, this chapter is just as odd a mix! What did you think?

**Black Sheep Alone**:-) You're pardoned. And at least Snape is a little phased by what is revealed in THIS chapter. More on that at a later date!

**Loraliant**** Angelisa Snape**: Finally caught up? You mean you haven't been hanging on my every word! Ouch! My ego took a hit on that one:-) Glad you approve!

**Cat Alex**: Tantalizing, eh? I like that…my fic is tantalizing! I'm doing my best not to give you guys too many hints about where this is headed. How's that working out?

**Moriann**: Yes, you SHOULD feel guilty for not reviewing! Soon there will be no more fluff, promise! I'm being heavily influenced right now by infuriating events in my own life…trust me, fluff is not a topic of conversation just now at my house….

**Illume**: Dumbledore…NEXT chapter! Almost entirely devoted to our Headmaster giving Rose and Severus a semi-stern look over the rim of his spectacles! You'll love it!

**Knights of Ne**: More suspense, more suspense! Next chapter, anyway. Oh, and the Ever Glades is a national park in Florida. Mostly swampy, slightly tropical, the perfect place to hide a group of wizards and witches who practice magic experiments!

**Jack it up Judy**: Trying to get to reading your latest update. I've got a full inbox of author-alerts today, mid-terms are over, have to be at work in an hour, and I'm trying to finish beta-reading something for another fic author. EGAD! I'm pleased you're still reading right along!

**WeasleyGirl****-ca**: A Canandian chica! Welcome, welcome! I must say that your review is the BEST review I've gotten in ages! You're now on my 'must read' list. I checked out your fics and they look most intriguing. Do you update often? I'm glad my SS/OC romance caught you, as I know many people overlook this genre. How DID you get through both fics so quickly? I'm flattered! Okay, does Snape love Rose? Actually, I think he does, too. He's just got his little issues to work through. As for another 'Failure' chapter…I'm not making any promises one way or the other. So pleased to have you! Again, thank you for that review! It made my day.

**Heather**: You liked my Severus-crying? Yes! It was hard to do. Make the guy cry, I mean. You wouldn't believe the amount of pinching…(j/k). I can't update all at once, this time around, but I promise to give y'all a double-whammy as soon as possible. I feel horribly guilty about the time between my updates right now.

That's all there is for today!

**_-JB-_**


	14. Dumbledore's Advice

**_Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm_**

_By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large_

**IMPORTANT Note: **My personal life has recently taken several horrible turns, and school has become my top priority. This will explain the lack of updates of late, and the reason I feel I need to take a further break from this fic. I will post two chapters today and then I'm taking a short break. I'm hoping to have things back to normal a couple of weeks into April. Thank you for all your support and kind reviews.

**Beta**: Foggy Librarian - But she was horribly rushed, so it's not up to the usual standards she strictly adheres to. My fault completely. :-D Sorry, Foggy.

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

**_CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Dumbledore's Advice_**

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Rose kept her eyes focused on a point just behind Albus Dumbledore's desk, where there was a small shelf of odd globes and instruments, and a few scattered photographs. She only half listened as Severus explained, in very plain terms, about the meeting he had with Lucius Malfoy and his own opinions of what should be done.

"I will not put Rose in this danger," he said at last, his cool exterior and indifferent tone would normally make it seem as if he truly did not carebut it was this demeanor and attitude that Severus used to distance himself from that which he did not like. What the Headmaster could not see was Severus's right handit was slightly below the deskholding tightly onto Rose's left hand. At some point during his narrative he had reached to still her handshe had been drumming her fingers on her own armrestand he had continued to hold it.

The revelations of that weekend were beginning to astonish Rose more and more. After their exploration of the attic the previous night, they had cooked a small and delightful dinner together. Then they had sat across that small table, as they had so many times in the past, and found themselves laughing and talking about a few of their brighter memories of school days.

They had returned to Hogwarts, and he had politely left her in her chambers... after stooping only slightly and brushing a kiss across her forehead. The tender, gentle gesture had touched her greatly and she had gone to bed that night feeling more comfortable with her situation than she had previously. She had almost asked him to stay again...but had hesitated a moment too long and then he was gone.

But he came for her in the morning, his demeanor serious, and his expression dark. They had gone, first thing, to the Headmaster.

Now here they sat, waiting for the advice and instruction of the one man they trusted above all others.

Of course, as always, Albus Dumbledore was not going to make it easy for them.

"Have a lemon drop?" he asked, holding a candy dish out to them.

Severus's right eye twitched, but Rose quickly squeezed his hand before reaching out and taking one of the proffered candies if only to distract herself with the sweet. A muggle treat, of course she knew, but only a moment after putting it in her mouth she felt herself relaxing and her mind clearing. She had feared a headache was coming on, and now...peace settled over her. Her eyes flashed surprise. "They're _enchanted_," she breathed, surprised. Like so many students and teachers before her, when the Headmaster had held out a treat in the past she had waved it away impatiently. She, like all the rest, had never suspected that what he truly was offering was _comfort._

Albus smiled, the expression warm and kind. "Of course," he answered. "Severus?" He offered the potion's master the dish.

Although he wasn't one for sugary substances, and he had never partaken of any such sweets before, Rose's soft exclamation made him curious enough to try one. The relief that filled him, the peace which pooled around him, was astonishing. "What?"

"A spell of my own devising," Albus said lightly, popping one of the sweets into his own mouth. "I never force them on anyone, of courseyou cannot force someone to be comforted or at ease. But I do what I can to offer it. I find that when my students, or my staff for that matter, are at ease that we have things resolved before too long.

"Now," he waved his hand to indicate them both, "I take it you have mended those bridges which your past burned and obliterated?"

Unable to answer this, Severus looked to Rose and found she was watching him and waiting for his response. Her smile appeared, hesitantly, and his own lips twitched upward.

Dumbledore took in that exchange and his own expression changed to one of distinct approval. "Good. You're well on your way to settling your past accounts. Very good." He leaned back in his large chair, elbows on the arm rest, and steepled his long fingers before him. He looked over his spectacles at them, as if contemplating them carefully. The Headmaster sighed and looked down then. "If Rose does not go to this demanded meeting," he said, "you will lose credibility and another Death Eater will be sent for her. Mister Malfoy made that very clear, did he not?"

"As clear as a Death Eater ever is," Severus answered, his body taut despite the calming candy. Some things never changed, and Severus's silent vigilance was one of those things about him that would always be the same. He always had to be readyfor one challenge or anotherfor anything the world threw at him.

"What would you advise, Headmaster?" Rose ventured, her voice soft and quiet. Her gaze was trained on the silver, bent head of the ancient wizard and her hand remained holding Severus's tightly.

"I would advise," Albus said, looking up at them carefully, his light blue eyes serious and steady, "that you devise a safe-guard. A port-key, a spell, some enchantment, that could take you away from the Death Eaters in an instant if need be. You're both very smart young people, I'm sure you can think of something such as that. Then you must deposit harmful memories somewhere safe." He gestured to the glass cabinet in which his bowl with the silvery liquid rested. "Finally, go to that meeting and do what you must to insure your husband does not fall out of favor with the Dark Wizards. Lives hang in the balance here, and should they grow to distrust Severus many souls will be lost."

"We always sacrifice for other people," Severus said, the hand not holding onto his wife clenching the arm of the chair until his knuckles were bone-white. "People who don't even know about uswho don't care whether I live or die. When will it end, Headmaster? When will we live for ourselves and none else?"

Albus Dumbledore looked at the 'young' man and blinked, looking surprised. "I should hope, Severus, none of us are ever that selfish."

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

She found him in his office, flying through essays with a red-inked quill, ruthlessly crossing out entire paragraphs of the students' work, sparing no one in his anger.

Severus had flown from the office, his lips sealed tightly against heated words he had wanted to shout into the Headmaster's face.

He was very dangerous to be around, in that moment, but Rose closed the office door and locked it firmly behind her. She had dealt with his temper before; she had faced his anger as well as his impatience. She came forward and perched herself on the end of his desk, watching his bent head. His long black hair trembled and swayed as his body shook, blocking his expression from her view. She reached forward and touched him, lightly, on the head and was relieved when he pausedif only for a momentwhen she did so.

"He's right, Severus. If you don't take me they'll send someone else, and we won't be prepared for it."

"Of course he's right." Severus snarled and threw down his quill, disgusted. "He's always right." He shoved himself away from the desk and whirled towards her, grasping her shoulders in a tight, uncomfortable grip. His hair partially hid his eyes from her, but she caught the dangerous glint there and the expressionwhite-faced angerwas not hard to miss. "But _you_, Rose? Why must _you_ be caught up in all this? It's all my fault, making you take part years ago"

"You didn't force me to join them, and we've talked about this before. You sound like a broken record." Her attempt at humor was lost on him, as was the allusion to the muggle-device. He thrust her away, causing her to stumble off of the desk, and then turned his back to her. "Severus, stop being an idiot. Throwing a tantrum like this isn't going to help the situation any, we need to come up with _something_ to guarantee our safety in this matter." She reached into her robes and pulled out a small tin box. "Here, have a lemon dropthe Headmaster gave me some when you left, and I think you need to calm down"

"I don't want to calm down," he insisted stubbornly. "I want to be _angry."_

"It's wasted energy," she countered. "And you know it. We've got better things to do with our time than sit and disagree with Albus Dumbledore. Now take a bloody lemon-drop before I cram the entire case down your throat!" She threw the tin down on his desk, the metallic 'bang' as it hit echoed off the stone walls of his dungeon office.

He didn't move.

"I'm _warning_ you, Severus!" she shouted, meaning every word of it. "Take it or I'll"

A tremor went through his shoulders; he turned and glared icy daggers at her. He swept the tin box into his hand, popped it open, and inserted a candy into his mouth. Despite himself some of his color returned, his eyes lost their hardness, and his jaw relaxed. He handed the box of sweets back to her and then dropped down into his chair. "I hate when you do that," he muttered.

"It's for your own good," she answered, feeling momentarily triumphant. "We have work to do, Severus. We must figure out something"

"I've all ready got an idea," he cut her off, holding a hand out to her. She took the offered hand, sliding her own into it; he led her around the desk and pulled her down into his lap. He sighed and reached for her spectacles, taking them off and folding them before carefully placing them on his desk. "It's complicated, but I think it will work. I'm not sure what the spell necessitates, so I'll need to do some research first. We can talk about it tomorrow, after Potter's remedial lesson. I'll have found the final references I need by then."

"All right, Severus." Her fingertips brushed his hair behind his ears and she offered him a smile. "Whatever you say."

"You're too trusting," he answered her, bending to rest his forehead against hers and closing his eyes to inhale her scent, her _essence._ "And I thought you were a smart witch."

"You're too kind." She chuckled and slid her arms around his neck. "We're getting better at this arguing thing."

"So I've noticed. We used to end them by running to opposite corners to lick our wounds." Humor laced his words; he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Now you end up in my lap or in my arms. I find I could come to enjoy the change."

"Severus?"

"Hm?"

Rose moved to rest her head against his shoulder and sighed. "That balm I gave you, did it help?"

"Healed everything I had," he answered. "Vampire saliva was an interesting concept. You said it was something you and Mankiller thought up."

She nodded. "Yes." She did not voice her question, but he felt it there. _What DID that to you?_

Some things were better left alone, and unknown. He shuddered and pulled her closer, resting his cheek against the top of her head. So little in the past had he protected her from, now he would grant her some small mercies. "You _are_ brilliant, Rose."

She clicked her tongue at him. "You think I don't know that?"

Laughter, quiet but strong, left his lips and he sighed into her auburn hair. It was braided and back, a 'lazy style' she had called it in the past. He hadn't given her much time to get ready that morning, merely showed up in her quarters and waited for her to get dressed. He reached one hand up to her back and tugged lightly on the braid, his expression curious. "You look like a schoolgirl again."

"You know you like it," she countered breezily, sitting back to look up at him. Her expression was one of amusement and her smile was crooked. "Go on and admit you like it."

"I like it well enough." He smirked. "I like it better down, though. I prefer it that way."

"Good for you. It's up for today and you'll have to deal with it." She leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his sallow cheek. "Have I ever told you how much I _love_ breakfast?"

**_-end of chapter-_**


	15. Harry's Occlumency Lesson

**_Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm_**

_By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large_

**Beta**: Foggy Librarian

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

**_CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Harry's Occlumency Lesson_**

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Rose sat, drumming her fingers against her desk, her eyes glazed over in thought. It had been another long day of silence in her classroom as the children read their lessons _straight_ from the book. She had assigned an essay, based on their outside reading, of nematoads just to liven things up. Through the course of the day she had caught three people snoring into their texts, five paper airplanes, six love notes, and two very interesting caricatures of herself during her class.

Umbridge had destroyed Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was now a pointless class and she didn't really blame them when a student skived off, or begged to go to the nurse because of a headache. Things were just so...so_...boring._

Until her last class of the day, which consisted of seventh year Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, that things picked up.

Fred (or was it George?) Weasley had fainted dead away, without even the slightest reason to have done so. His twin, whichever one it was, had actually appeared more excited than worried about that event. She could have _sworn_ he actually took out a notebook to jot something down before he had worked with her to haul the other red-head off the ground.

Something was going on with those two.

But now her thoughts were elsewhere, and the more she dwelt on them the more upset she was becoming.

Of course, it made no sense to become upset over such a thing...she had no reason to be offended by the actions of someone who probably didn't even know he was causing her unrest.

She looked at the clock and sighed. Harry's Occlumency lessons were at eight o'clock in the evening, for one hour, every Monday night. It was only seven-thirty and she was impatient to talk to Severus about his plan for the coming weekend. During the silence of her classes Rose had thought long and hard about all the possible things they could come up with which would insure the safety of both herself and her husband during the Death Eater's meeting. But portkeys, unreliable in certain situations, were all she could really reason out.

Besides that, she wanted to ask him the question that was only now beginning to cause an eruption of her emotions. Rose wanted to know _why_, exactly, he had left her alone _again_ the previous evening. At first the gesture of turning down her advances had pleased her, and surprised her. It had shown a great deal of care and gentleness on his part to do so. Then she had found it slightly understandableno need to commit themselves physically when there was still so much uncertainty lying between them. She had corrected that thought, after his confession in Latin but two days before, and decided he was probably trying to keep his head clear and work through his confusing emotions and thoughts.

Then, Sunday night after dinner, she had asked him if he would like to come to her chambers for a little while. He had blatantly told her that such 'would not be wise.' She had not even been trying to invite him to her bed but the outright rejectionit was too much of a puzzle for her to leave it alone. And why was it '_not_ wise?'

She hadn't had the chance to ask, he had disappeared into his dungeons a moment later.

She would admit, of course, that she had begun their strange dance of stepping forward and then back. But enough was getting to be enough.

Before Rose knew what was going through her own mind, she found herself storming down into the dungeons. Her logical side didn't have time to stop her from throwing open the classroom door where Severus Snape taught his potions lessons and met Harry for Occlumency.

He looked up from a pensieve, his wand was depositing a silvery strand into the liquid before him. "Rose." He looked dimly surprised. "Potter's lesson hasn't even begun yet. I thought I told you"

"To come afterwards, I know," she responded coolly, folding her arms across her chest. She moved one elbow back, sharply, to knock into the door and slam it closed. "Sorry, Severus, but I got tired of _waiting_."

"It's almost eight o'clock," he began, a puzzled frown appearing on his long, pale face. "I don't have the necessary time to explain to you"

"—why I repel you so?" she asked, raising her voice over his words. "Severus, I realize this may sound a little childish, but I simply must ask you something." She stalked forward, her chin thrust out determinedly. "Listen and listen closely, else you might find me less than willing to let you off easily. I have had a _very_ long day, watching brilliant young minds turn to sludge in my classroom thanks to the Toad. I had one of the Weasley's faint during the last class and I was _relieved_ he broke up the monotony by doing so. On top of all of this, I have a headacheand _no_, I don't want a massage."

She was before his desk, glaring down at him, and now she put her hands on the edge of the wood and leaned forward. In a hissing, soft whisper that students would immediately associate with the Head of Slytherin, she said, "I am, at this moment, a very frustrated woman. I have gone without my husband, without any man, for sixteen years. I am aware of the fact that I am an attractive woman, so I am failing to understand _what_ is holding you back from acting like a man and taking advantage of the woman who is _your wife_."

He looked back at her, now bemused, and reached up to run a hand through his hair.

"Perhaps you would care to explain," she said, pushing herself away from the desk.

"Perhaps I wouldn't," he answered, one corner of his mouth turning upward. "Not at the moment, anyway. Your nephew is due to arrive at any second and"

Rose threw up her hands and rolled her eyes dramatically. "Severus, _please_, I'm tired of excuses and you are"

He was _over_ his desk and facing her, his arms tight around her waist, before she could get out another word. His lips were dangerously close to hers, and his black eyes locked with her emerald green. "Rose Snape, kindly shut up." He pressed his lips to hers, hungrily, forcing her jaw open with one hand. His tongue thrust into her mouth, muffling any protests she might have made with her own, and his eyes stayed open to watch her reaction.

Her eyes fluttered briefly, then closed blissfully as she leaned into him and welcomed his tongue with her own. She slid her hands over his shoulders, one into his silky black hair, and she sighed with pleasure, relieved to know she still kindled this passion within him.

Severus released her lips, leaving them a dark, nearly bruised red. "That will have to suit you for now." He smirked and released her, stepping back and shaking his head. "Stubborn witch."

"Wait a minute," she said, reaching up to grab his shirt. "What was _that_?"

"A promise that I'll explain later."

A promise. Rose's lips twitched, then she gave in and smiled shakily. "Severus"

The door slammed open, Rose released her husband and took a step back from him, her eyes flashing to the entrance of the roomHarry Potter stood there, a look of surprise on his face.

Although he couldn't possibly have known what had gone on just moments before, the very thought of him barging into the roomif he had just come moments earliercaused a deep red to flood into Rose's normally pale cheeks. She swallowed and looked to Severus, who had bent back over his pensieve as if nothing had happened. She cleared her throat and then turned a friendly smile onto her nephew, who now looked more suspicious than surprised. "Hello, Harry. Not one for knocking?"

"It's a classroom," Harry answered, looking at her through narrowed eyes. "You never knock when you enter a classroom."

Rose sighed. "Oh." She moved behind the teaching desk and took a seat, in Severus's chair. "I just thought I'd observe your lesson tonight." She shot Severus a glance that dared him to challenge that. "To see how things are progressing. Padfoot wants reports, you know."

Severus didn't even react to that, but turned instead to face Harry. "Shut the door and let's begin, Potter."

Sitting through Harry's class that evening, Rose immediately knew what Severus had been saying about the boy's work ethic. He was hardly able to keep Severus from his mind; Harry ended up on his knees several times. A scattered handful of times he would manage to break Snape's concentration, but it was obvious his skills were lacking.

During one of Snape's more brutal assaults, Harry fell backwards from the onslaught. Rose jumped to her feet, her expression pained, but she held her place until both Severus and Harry were blinking with clear eyes.

Harry Potter looked as if he could have strangled the Head of Slytherin, and the way his fingers flexed and unflexed made it clear he wanted to.

Severus, cool and collected as always, merely shook his head. "We've been at it for an hour and you have showed no signs of progression. You have not been practicing, as I instructed you to, ridding your mind of emotion every night before sleeping. You have done _nothing_ I've instructed you to, you have shown yourself to be lax in your studies and a disappointment to the Headmaster's expectations." He ignored Rose completely, not even glancing at her when she shot him a hard glare. "Stay in this office. There is a book in the library I want you to study." He swept from the room, leaving the air chill behind him.

The door to the classroom shut, and Harry turned immediately to glare at Rose. "Thanks for sticking up for me," he bit out, shoving a hand angrily through his messy hair. "Fat lot of help you've been."

She arched one eyebrow at him and frowned. "While I may not agree with Professor Snape's methods, Harry, I recognize that he is the only one with a right to teach you at this time."

He snarled, "It's not like _anyone's_ doing any good teaching anymore."

"Stop being difficult, Harry." She sighed and sat back in Severus's chair. "It's not my fault Dolores Umbridge destroyed my class."

"No one's going to know how to defend themselves when the time comes," Harry said bitterly, sliding into one of the chairs behind a student table. "No one except for me, or maybe Ron and Hermione. Hermione's really disappointed, you know."

"Yes," Rose murmured, looking down at the desk. "She's a very bright young witch. I really wish there was some way for you and the others to learn, but that textbook is useless and Umbridge is an old demon. There's nothing I can do."

"Maybe there's something_...I_ can do," Harry murmured quietly.

Rose looked up at him, frowning in puzzlement. "Like what, Harry?"

He shrugged. "Hermione suggested that I...well. That _we_ form a...a study group. For Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Study group?" Rose blinked, then her expression changed to one of surprised delight. "Hermione is a very smart girl. I would counsel you, as your aunt of course, to pay attention to her."

Harry chewed his bottom lip and glanced towards the door, apprehensively. "It'd have to be a secret. If Madame Umbridge found out she'd nix the idea. But we have a few problems."

"Like what?"

"Keeping it a secret, for one."

"I'm sure you'll come up with something," Rose encouraged. "You understand, as a teacher, I can't do much to help you, Harry. But if you need anything"

"We do," he said at once. "We need a place to _go_."

Even though the answer popped into Rose's head immediately, she swallowed back the words and smiled thinly. "Talk to the Weasley twins, I should think."

He nodded and his eyes left her, traveling slowly to the pensieve. "He's always putting stuff in that when I come in."

"Probably on the off chance you _actually_ get a peek at his mind." Rose didn't say the words cruelly but they did sting the boy as was evidenced by his sharp look. "There's a lot of things in the memories of Severus Snape he wouldn't want you to see, either because they're embarrassing or painful for him."

"He's looking at all of _my_ memories," Harry snapped out, glaring at his aunt. "Everything!"

The witch reached forward and picked up the bowl, looking into its silvery contents quietly until she seemed to see something she recognized. "Have a look at this, Harry." She tapped the bowl with her wand, wisps of silver air began to float out. The air began to take shape, the figure of a boy appeared. His dark hair and hooked nose gave him away immediatelyit was a very young Severus Snape. He stood, glaring defiantly at something neither Harry nor Rose could see. His lips moved, angrily, and then an arm lashed out from no where and swept him back with a fierce blowhe staggered, fell, then curled in upon himself as if to shrink completely from sight.

Rose tapped the bowl and ended the memory there. She looked at her nephew to find him staring at her, in silent surprise. "Never believe, Harry, that you're the only one who has experienced pain and sorrow."

**_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._**

Rose followed Severus down one of the lesser-used dungeon corridors, trying to push away her curiosity. After he had returned from the library and sent the silent Harry on his way, with the promised book on Occlumency from the restricted section of the library, he had asked her to come with him. Her guess was that they were going to his chambers.

It struck her as odd that he had managed to keep her from his own rooms for so long, not even saying a word about them, but she shrugged it off. There was an alcove in one of the walls, which Severus stepped intoa torch lit up, set inside a scone above their heads. A mirror was before them, antique and blackened with age, but Rose could still make out her own dim reflection. Severus touched the mirror, laying his palm flat against it, and said, _"Domus dulcis domus."_

"Touching," Rose murmured, smirking. He only took her wrist and tugged her through the mirrorit was like moving through a puddle, she discovered, without getting wet. It was a clever doorway, and as they entered the darkened chambers beyond it Severus whispered another word and the room grew slightly lightera fire in a hearth, a few candles scattered here and there on a desk, by the bed, on a low table. His room was sparsely decorated, and as cold as he kept his classrooms.

One chair, a low table, a writing desk, and a large, black-curtained bed was all the furniture of the main room. She glimpsed a wardrobe tucked behind the doorway to what must have been his bathroom, and there were a few shelves set within the walls of the room. They were filled with books, but no knick-knacks, photographs, or other personal belongings.

She shook her head and fell into the only chair. "This room is even worse than the dungeons, Severus. Why is it so empty?"

"It doesn't need much in it," he replied, going to his desk. He opened a drawer and began to go through it, pulling a few sheets of yellowed paper out. "It's not as if I entertain very often. I have what I need."

"Mm." Rose sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying at least the cool air of the chamber, and the relaxation the shadows made possible.

"We know," Severus was saying, shuffling the papers as he briefly scanned their contents, "that the Death Eaters can ward against apparation and portkey, but there are other methods of defense we could utilize should they become hostile to you or to me. One such method I believe will work in our unique situationfor practical purposes I have decided to call it the Anchor spell. The old name is far too long and in Gaelican impractical language."

"I think it's a lovely language," Rose said absently, opening one of her eyes to peer at him through the semi-darkness of the chamber. "Very easy on the ear, too."

"Indeed." Severus came forward and waved a handa chair materialized near Rose's. He took his seat and handed her the yellowed sheets he had collected. "What do you think of this?"

She began to read, her eyebrows rising slowly until her expression was that of mingled surprise and interest. "According to these noteswhich appear to be in _your_ handwritingif a person anchors himself to another person, through the use of complex charms, it is more difficult to harm either of them."

"That's only the first page," he pointed out. "Anchoring to a place is also possible. Should you, or the place, be threatened you will be returned to it. In this case, Hogwarts would be the prudent place."

"And we would anchor to each other?" She sifted through the papers, reading them with a shrewd eye. "Severus, this all looks well and good, but have you ever tested it? Or is it just a theory?"

"I've been doing the research and these types of magics for years," Severus told her, leaning forward, his tone serious and soft. "Have you ever seen the clock in the Weasley home? Each member of their abnormally large clan has a hand on the clock, and the clock itself doesn't tell time but tells _situations_. 'Home, Mortal Peril, En Route, Safe, Sick,' et cetera. That clock is a perfect example of attaining the knowledge you need to Anchor someone to a placein this case, the well-being of the Weasleys is attached and Anchored to that clock. Portkeys are another example of the sort of magic this would entailconnecting an object to a specific location, activated by a certain time or a particular person's touch."

"You're proposing that you can Anchor a person, or persons, to a place or another person for safety's sake. I understand that much," she answered. Rose sighed and sat back in the chair, studying the dark man before her, taking in his appearance carefully. No more scrapes or bruises appeared on his pale skin, and while the circles under his eyes were there they were not as pronounced as they might've been. He only looked tired, which could be a result from the recent Occlumency lesson. "Severus, how will this do me any good when I answer Malfoy's summons?"

Now the Professor of Potions began to smile, smugly, and he dropped his gaze to the stone floor. "This is a new magic, they cannot guard against it. We will anchor you to the school and to me. Should the charm perceive any direct threat to your person, not only will I be put on guard but if the threat is put into action you will be zipped through the fabric of place and time and be brought to the gates of Hogwarts."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Simple as that?" The skepticism wasn't hidden in her tone. "Or am I missing something?"

"It isn't simple at all. Your body must be in contact with a physical token of the Anchora piece, if you will, of the place and person."

"So you'd like me to carry around a lock of your hair?" she asked, almost scoffing. "Severus, I don't think"

"Rose," he interrupted, reaching forward to take both of her hands into his, lacing his long, pale fingers with her own slender digits. "This is very important, and I swear to you it will work. Trust me."

The witch studied his earnest expression, his tightly-pressed lips and furrowed eyebrows, his head tilted slightly downward to allow their eyes to be level. "You're irritating, Severus," she finally said. "But I trust you. What must I do to help with the charms?"

**_-end of chapter-_**

I'll see y'all in a few weeks.

Yours,

**_Jedi Blu_**


	16. Charming

_**Serpents and Thorns: The Building Storm**_

_By Jedi Blu, Lady at Large_

**Beta**: Wanted

_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Charming

_.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n._

They were in the seventh year laboratory, it was nearing midnight. Severus handed Rose vial after vial of potions and ingredients for her to mix _just_ so in to a silver cauldron resting over vibrant blue flames. She followed his instructions, adding the ingredients, and he would whisper the complex charms at the right moments.

Flutterby wings, grains of sand from Antarctica, golden strands of unicorn hair, an 'infatuation' potion of all things! Precise stirring techniques, careful timing. It grew later, and Rose kept her concentration from wavering only by memorizing every detail of the Anchoring charms. She was not at all surprised he had come up with something like this—he had been the boy to invent Wolfsbane, after all.

The clock struck twelve, Severus took a small knife from a drawer and pricked his finger—three drops of blood fell into the cauldron. He took a little pot of dirt—Hogwarts soil—and sprinkled it in as well. Rose held out her hand, he placed the knife against her skin and made only the tiniest cut to add three drops of her blood as well. He didn't release her hand after it was done, but dipped their joined hands into the icy-white potion.

Rose gasped and her head jerked backwards. A jolt shot through Severus as well, and only by sheer brute strength did he hold them both in that position.

The liquid changed from white to a steely gray. Severus drew their joined hands from the potion. "We're Anchored now—bonded to each other," he whispered hoarsely, exhausted from the work and worn by the emotional strain.

She tilted her chin up, looking him directly in the eye. "We've always been like that."

Cautiously, he dropped her hand and took a step away. "Do you feel any different?"

Rose took a step back as well and paused her breathing, mentally checking over her state. "No, but when our hands went into the potion—"

"Think of it as a chain, connecting my life-force to yours. Connecting both of us to this school." He came closer and opened his arms slightly, generously offering her what she needed at that moment. Comfort. She stepped into his embrace and buried her face against his robes. "Now, I believe I made you a promise a few hours ago."

"So you did." She looked up at him, frowning thoughtfully. "You know, I think that was the best kiss I've had in over a decade."

Smirking, he bent until their lips nearly met. "It won't be the last."

She nearly purred when his arms snaked around her and pulled her against him, one completely around her waist to draw her entire body to him and the other hand slowly sliding up her back and neck until it was tangled in her increasingly loose bun. She shivered and allowed him to bring her nearer, slipping her own hands up over his chest and around his shoulders. Her soft curves fit perfectly against his lean, masculine form. "Prove it," Rose murmured, her voice an octave lower, deeper by restrained desire.

His lips gently grazed hers, she was prepared to answer them—he pulled abruptly away. Completely… away, withdrawing from their embrace as well as her lips.

Rose stared at him for a moment in open amazement. For a moment, she knew it had to be sheer cruelty which would make him do such a thing to her. "You—" She stopped, thought carefully. Words wouldn't at all express the sudden mixture of frustration and confusion she felt at that moment, and so she did the most natural thing for a witch in that situation to do. Her wand came from her sleeve and with one very well-placed hex she had turned his hair a sickly shade of pink. "ARGH!" she shouted as well when he only stood there, staring at her in blatant, almost innocent surprise—what right did _he_ have to be surprised!

Before she knew what she was doing, Rose was out of the seventh-year laboratory and halfway through the regular dungeon classroom when—

"_Locomoto mortis_."

Gasping, Rose began to fall forward as her legs and arms locked together.

Magic caught her and lowered her more carefully to the ground before gravity could bring her crashing into it. "You really ought to give me time to explain before you go storming off, flinging curses at everyone," his cool voice said slowly, silkily, as he came to stand over her. "Listen carefully, witch. You are a temptation I sorely wish to give in to, but until we conclude the meeting of this weekend I believe it would be prudent if we kept our hands to ourselves. The… exchange of too many bodily fluids could give away the fact that you and I are much more confident in our relationship than we would wish for our fellow Death Eaters to know." He knelt next to her prone form, staring intently into her glaring eyes. "Trust me; it would take little for them to detect any intercourse between us." He waved his wand and her lips were able to move.

"You idiot," she snarled. "Let me up!"

"Not until you tell me you understand my reasoning."

"Oh, I understand it all right. Of course, it's hard to take a man with pink hair seriously—" His narrowed eyes were actually much less intimidating under long greasy pink locks. "But don't think I'm happy with it, and don't think I'm going to make your life easy about this either."

He removed the spell and stepped away. "We had best refrain from any further physical portrayals of affection. As I have said, you are a temptation. One kiss or embrace would lead to another, and another, until things were no longer under my control." His statement cool, as if he explained nothing more than a natural cause and effect of science, masked his own irritation at the subject.

"Spoilsport." She remained on the ground, looking up at him, though her expression was defeated. "Fine. I've waited this long, another few days won't kill me." She raised her arm. "Help me up?"

Sighing, he reached down and pulled her up—but Rose propelled her body forward with all her strength and managed to shove him into the wall—between her body and stone. His eyes widened in alarm but her lips locked over his before he could react further and Rose sank her fingers into his long (and still pink) hair. Her lips worked rhythmically against his, though for several moments he didn't move. She slowly slid her tongue out to trace the seam of his mouth. He groaned and opened, allowing her to taste and be tasted, his own hands gently massaged her waist, pulling her in to him.

Rose slid away, smirking to herself when he groaned and closed his eyes, putting his head back against the wall. She knew exactly what she had done to him, pressed to him as she had been, and she couldn't keep the smile of triumph from her face.

"Good night, Severus. Pleasant dreams," she said, in a deliberately low, husky voice. Then she made quick her escape, and he only opened his eyes in time to catch the door shutting softly behind her.

Severus Snape didn't sleep very well that Monday night, and when he did his dreams were not torturous in the usual manner—far from nightmares, he dreamed of some very _satisfying_ situations in which to find himself with Rose.

It wasn't until he looked in the mirror Tuesday morning that he realized his hair was still a ghastly shade of pink.

_**.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n.**_

Rose shifted to the right when Charlie Weasley entered the staff room, and she shot him a half-smirk when he gratefully took a seat beside her. "You look dead tired."

"I've been helping the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice. My brothers used every available opportunity to send the bludgers my way, and I'm afraid I've grown a little rusty since becoming a teacher."

"Poor Charlie, he's an old man now," Rose murmured, unsympathetically.

"You're in an awfully good mood," he observed, raising his eyebrows speculatively. "What's up?"

The Defense teacher shrugged and raised his eyes innocently towards the ceiling. "Oh, not much."

The door to the room slammed open and in stormed Severus Snape. He shot Rose an irritated glance, her smile only widened, and then he gave Charlie a look that caused the younger wizard to pale. He briefly wondered if he should leave.

"Good afternoon, Severus," Rose positively cooed, lowering her eyelashes. "How are you doing today?"

Severus only gritted his teeth and turned towards the table where the house elves kept fresh coffee, pumpkin juice, and other refreshments for the teachers. He downed two cups of coffee without blinking. "Tolerable," he finally grunted.

"Oh good," she replied, winking at a surprised Charlie Weasley. "You look a little edgy, though."

He muttered something intelligible, then without further ado stormed back out the way he had come in, slamming the door behind him.

"I feel very sorry for his students today," Charlie whispered, amazed so much anger could be expressed in so much silence.

Rose chuckled and reached for a copy of _Witch Weekly_. "Severus is a little..._frustrated_ right now, that's all. He'll be as right as rain in a few days."

Charlie looked at her carefully, then his gaze slid back to the door the Potion's Master had slipped through. "You wouldn't have anything to do with his 'frustration,' would you?"

Her wicked smile in return was all the answer he needed.

_**.s.L.y.T.h.E.r.I.n.**_

Friday night found Rose grading papers in her office when there was a light knock upon the door. "Come in, please."

A familiar head of unruly black hair poked its head in. "Professor?"

She smiled and removed her useless spectacles. "Harry! What a nice surprise, do come in!"

Harry glanced around the neat-and-tidy office, noting there were more bookshelves than anything, and carefully positioned himself in the student's chair opposite her desk. "Hi, Prof—Aunt Rose."

"Hello." She offered him an amused glance and then held out a little tin. "Lemon drop?"

He blinked. "Um. No thank you."

She shrugged and put the tin down. "What can I do for you, Harry?"

He sighed and looked down. "It's hard to explain, Pr-Aunt Rose. Listen, um—"

There was a knock on the door, interrupting him. "Hold that thought, Harry." Rose sighed and raised her voice to call, "Enter!"

Severus Snape slid into the room, and he barely glanced at Harry before he began to speak in a cold, controlled tone. "I need to speak with you." _Alone_ was implied merely by his scathing tone of voice.

"All right. Will it take long? Harry was here first, you know."

His eye twitched. "I'll be in your quarters." He cast Harry a vicious glare, the underlying message in his words clear. _Don't forget who she belongs to, Potter._

Harry shook his head when Snape slammed the door, then turned wide eyes to Rose. "_What_ did he mean by that?"

"Frankly, it's none of your business," she replied cheerfully. "But I'll tell you anyway. Severus and I have an important...meeting to attend to this weekend and we're preparing a few details for it. But what was it you needed, Harry?"

"I...uh...was wondering if you had any good Defense books you could loan me—not as a teacher, but as my aunt. We've got some great stuff, but some of it is a little outdated—"

"_We_?" Rose arched one eyebrow at him and brushed a lock of auburn hair from her eyes. "Even the walls have ears, Harry. I would be happy to loan _you_ some books." She tapped her chin thoughtfully with one finger. "I'll send Dobby over with them tomorrow morning; you can have your pick of what you like. Early Christmas presents."

He nodded. "That's all I really needed."

"Is there anything else you _want_, though?" Rose smiled and tilted her head to one side to examine the boy before her. He was becoming more of a young man now than a boy, getting slowly taller, growing quieter and more thoughtful she hoped.

"I'd like to talk to Snuffles," he admitted.

"That could be difficult to manage. I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Aunt Rose." He stood and went to the door. "Er, good night."

"Good night, Harry."

When he had gone, Rose looked morosely at the essays she still needed to grade and sighed. Doubtless the longer she made Severus wait the worse would be his temper when she got to him. She pulled her papers together and decided she would grade them in bed, after Severus left her for the night.

When she arrived in her chambers he was laying atop the covers of her bed, fully clothed of course, and glaring up at the canopy. "Took you long enough," he muttered sullenly.

"Don't be rude, Severus," she corrected, putting the papers down on her desk. She began to undo her bun, letting her hair fall loosely down her back and around her shoulders. "What do you want?"

He propped himself up with his elbows and glared at her. "I wanted to let you know that I _will_ be exacting my revenge for every moment of torture you have put me through this week. You know perfectly well that I am restraining myself for both our sakes, maybe even saving our lives by doing so, and yet you continue to make things difficult for me."

"Well said," she teased, applauding dutifully. She sashayed through the room and opened up her wardrobe. "You can see though, Severus, that I'm not afraid of your threats."

He growled in the back of his throat and fell back onto her bed.

"You'll never guess who was in the paper today," she was saying, pulling a silk nightgown from the wardrobe. "Ruben Fahle—you remember, from the Malfoys' party? He's in France now, with their Minister of Magic—or Lord Protector, or whatever they call him. He just struck a deal with them for one of his companies—Veela hair imports."

"Must've missed that article," Severus muttered.

"Mm." Rose slipped into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. He heard the water running as she washed her face and he looked towards the door—perhaps he should leave before—

Rose emerged in the nightgown—black silk, deliciously translucent with the light of the bathroom at her back, showing her every curve to its fullest advantage. She ignored his fiery stare and went to retrieve the papers she had yet to grade. Then lifted the edge of the blankets up and neatly tucked them around her once she was situated on the bed. She dropped the stack of papers into her lap and looked up at him—and nearly burst out laughing. She had never seen Severus look as pathetic as he did at that moment; he frowned, but his eyes were wide in an expression that was almost pleading, his posture was completely stiff and she could see the tense muscles of his jaw working. It was strangely flattering to know she could do this to him.

"Would you like to help me grade these?" she asked lightly.

"No. I have essays of my own to grade," he answered tersely.

"Then bring them in here. I doubt either of us will sleep much tonight—I'm too nervous about our meeting tomorrow with dear Lucius. We might as well keep each other company."

He considered it. "Very well." Then disappeared out the door.

Rose sighed and scratched the tip of her nose with her quill. She managed to work through three essays of very messy penmanship before he came back with a bundle of papers underneath one arm. He dropped the stack onto the bed and then began to unbutton the collar of his black shirt. Rose allowed herself to watch from the corner of her eye as he discarded the shirt, then his shoes...socks...he began unbuttoning his trousers.

Heat filled her cheeks and the dangerous snake she recognized as desire was coiled in her stomach and ready to bite at the least provocation. She averted her eyes and bent further over her students' work.

The bed sank a little under his weight. Without even looking at her again he began to go through the assignments now resting on his lap.

Rose gritted her teeth, ignoring the heat spreading from her belly, cheeks, and stomach into her limbs, arousing her entire body to a state of awareness.

_Curse Lucius Malfoy_, she thought. _I'm so tired of waiting._

Severus was having his own problems as he plowed his way through the homework of his students. He didn't know why he had agreed to her suggestion—no, he knew. Despite the torture currently being around her was, he needed to be with her. He was growing anxious about this meeting and whatever it was Malfoy had planned. He was worried about her, though he was certain the charm they had prepared would protect them well.

He was still worried.

In silence they worked, at ease with each other, despite the chemical tension rising between them. Long into the night they worked until Rose at last finished grading her last essay. She blew out the candle on her side of the bed and snuggled down into her blankets. He hesitated, then put the rest of his work aside and did the same.

The darkness filled the room, neither spoke. Then Rose shifted and moved closer. She wrapped one arm around his waist. "I love you, Severus," she whispered, dropping her head to his chest.

He pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head, sighing as some of the tension went out of his body.

They did not sleep, but they laid in each other's arms in silent comfort, waiting for what the next day would bring.

_**-end of chapter-**_

Before you all decide to torture and kill me, I have something to say! At the end of my writing I lost my beta-reader, who was also a best friend, to a very dramatic circumstance in her own life. That put me off writing for quite some time. I also moved across the country to transfer into a private college that was immensely hard to get in to. I have since been working my tail end off trying to keep the scholarships and grants I have amassed and get into the programs for my major. Then, as we all know, HBP came out and it depressed me.

So it's been almost a year. I'm sorry. Real life.

I need a beta if I'm ever to continue. I'm not so arrogant a writer yet to think I can write the perfect story without a little help. I'll take applications via the usual methods of 'contact author.' If anyone out there is still interested, anyway.

This chapter was written last year, and I only spell-checked it really before posting. Forgive me.

You may also see I've changed my penname. Now I am your...

**_-JL-_**


	17. The End

Final Chapter: The End

By Jedi Librarian

SPOILER WARNING FOR DH.

* * *

In a quiet countryside cottage, far from busy cities and near a quiet wood, a woman sat in a rocking chair before a roaring fire. She turned the page of a book, pursing her lips, quiet engrossed in what she read. Across the little room, in a comfortable chair, a man kept her silent company. His hands were before him, his fingers steepled, while his eyes stared into the fire burning in the hearth.

After several long minutes, the woman carefully closed the book and laid her hand on the cover. She closed her eyes and looked almost as a priest might when delivering a benediction. When she opened her eyes she looked directly at the man. "It's all over now. It ends the way we expected it would."

"Redemption, then?" he asks, his voice soft and his tone untroubled.

"Yes."

"And a revelation of some sort?"

"An unrequited love."

He raised his eyebrows at this and turned in his chair just enough to fully face her. "Oh really? With who?"

The woman smiled a little and gave the book a pat. "You should read it."

"You know I never will." He casually waves the idea away. "Why should I? It's a pointless fiction…."

"It's captured," the woman said slowly, "the imagination of millions of people. Adults, children, wizards, and muggles."

He shook his head. "All I care about is that there was a redemption and a triumph over Darkness. That _is_ what happened, isn't it?" He suddenly looks at her with slight skepticism. "Happily ever after came at last for the Boy Who Lived, did it not?"

"It did. It didn't come for you, though."

"For the character named for me," he countered. "But—"

"The redemption did come, yes. You—your character—was by his own admission was in love with Lily Potter."

"That's an interesting turn of events." He looked surprised by this. "As I said: pure fiction. Who could help but admire Lily? Of course I admired her. But it was her younger sister…."

"Sadly, only one younger sister is ever mentioned in these remarkable books." She tapped the cover again though she appeared less pleased with it now.

The man rose from his chair and came to stand before her. He took the book from her lap and tossed it lightly to the seat he just left. "A gross error." He reached for her hand and gently tugged her up to stand. "It doesn't matter, Rose. I have you. The real me has you. What do we care for such books?"

"I can't help but feel a little sad that they're over…." She shrugged and leaned in to him while he obligingly put his arms around her. "The story is over."

He did laugh at that, giving her a gentle squeeze. "Rose, darling, the stories will never be over. There will be so many more to come, so long as people like you exist. People who love the telling and the imagining."

She tilted her head up and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Severus. You always know just what to say. I love you. I'm glad you love me."

"With all my heart."

* * *

Severus and Rose Snape went on living as happily as they could, being nothing more than products of JK Rowling's talent and my imagination. Write on, fanfic authors, and the stories will never truly end.

AN: This fanfic is permanently closed. Expect no updates, but please enjoy the first Rose story as it stands fairly well alone. I especially appreciate all of you who have added that story to your favorite's list so soon after the release of Deathly Hallows. More may come from me eventually, but I believe Rose and Severus have done all I need them to do.


End file.
